Turn Around
by 2theSky
Summary: "Today's the day"... that everything started crashing down. No one ever expected Robin to fall so far, and no one ever expected the result. (Book 1 of the Pompeii Series)
1. Two Wrongs

**(July 4th, 4:16 AM - Wayne Manor)**

Dick couldn't sleep.

Tomorrow was it! Tomorrow was the day-

"Well," he rolled over in bed and smirked at his alarm clock which set a red glow out over the room, "technically today's the day!" He grinned and flopped back onto the red and black sheets; his smile only grew with every passing minute. Sunlight started to creep up and into the sky and peek through his curtains, but for the excited Grayson, it couldn't come fast enough.

As he lay in bed, the summer sun continuing to inch its way up the horizon, Richard couldn't help but think- no, feel like- there was something big happening. He wasn't sure what, but there had been little to do on patrol in the last week. Robberies, muggings, the usual slimy scumbag action- that was all normal. But there was no villain action, which was entirely out of place.

The mere thought of villains had his scars from fights past burning, tingling under his skin. He knew the Justice League suspected something was afoot, something that on the scale of aster to disaster was definitely disaster. In fact, Bruce had been so busy in the last few months with this issue of lack of crazed villains that Dick was starting to feel the strain.

He knew Bruce was busy; he was stinking Bruce Wayne, billionaire and playboy by day, Batman by night. He'd only lived with the man as his ward for four years.

But in those four years, a lot had built up inside the Boy Wonder. Far too much for him to bear the weight of alone. His parents' death, the horrors and near death experiences as Robin, school, trying to live up to Bruce's expectations-

Ricard sighed and stared at the Flying Grayson poster hanging on the opposite wall. He was Robin partly because of what happened to his parents, to him; Dick didn't want it to happen to anyone else.

Not if he could help it.

He also was Robin because he enjoyed getting to kick bad guy butt. It was something anyone would feel if they were in his shoes.

At least… it had been.

Now? Now he was Robin so he and Bruce were at least together somewhat. He did it more and more just to please the Dark Knight, which was practically impossible.

Dick was well aware today wasn't much more than a blasted backstage pass, but it would be a start.

Even if he didn't feel it was right…

maybe Bruce would be proud.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(July 5th, 6:08 AM - Wayne Manor)**

Well…

Today was definitely the day, alright.

It was the day the Justice League proved how little they thought of kid heroes. It was the day a Cadmus Lab was blown sky high. It was the day Superman found out he had a son and did not, in any way, shape, or form in the universe, take it well. It didn't help that they'd found out that half of Superboy's DNA was Lex Luthor's.

And, as Dick was back in bed, grounded from patrol for a week for hacking the Justice League, he was reviewing the Daily Planet's website for any information about the whole no-bad-guys-to-be-seen issue. Or, at least, waiting to review it; for some reason or other, the site refused to load at a speed faster than a snail. Richard drummed his fingers anxiously over the keyboard of his sleek black and silver laptop. Maybe he could score some brownie points- or at the very least a response with more emotion than that of a stinking rock- and make Bruce happy with him for once. Maybe-

 _BREAKING NEWS! BREAKING NEWS!_

Dick snapped back from the realm of delusions (as he called them; he knew they would never happen) as the site loaded, red and white flashing across the top under the Daily Planet insignia and toolbar. he clicked the flashing and an article appeared:

 _Supervillains' Plot Backfires_

 _most recent update: July 4th, 10:58 PM_

Dick scrolled down through the updates, blue eyes growing wide in a mix of terror and relief. Terror at the fact that something so colossal, so catastrophic, had almost been successful. Relief at the fact that by some miracle, it hadn't been.

 _July 4th, 4:07 AM: Authorities responded to reports of an explosion in northern Metropolis. One eye witness said they had seen a warehouse near the West Side Nursing Home explode and reduce to rubble. No fire was reported at this time. Authorities are searching the debris for anyone who might have been in or near the warehouse at the time._

 _July 4th, 5:12 AM: Twelve supervillains have been pulled form the rubble of the now destroyed warehouse, which formerly belonged to LexCorp and has been confirmed as abandoned. Several have been identified as Poison Ivy, Bane, Count Vertigo, Black Adam, Wotan, Atomic Skull, and Vandal Savage. A cat also died in the explosion. Three remain unidentified, including a minor._

 _July 4th, 10:34 AM: All survivors pulled from the rubble have been found to be in comas. Several Justice League members have shown up for the investigation and have identified the group of villains as the Injustice League. Upon inspection, the Justice League found vast supplies and components for weapons and plans for attacks on several cities, including Gotham, Central City, and the nation's capital, as well as targets in Europe, Asia, and South America._

 _July 4th, 12:07 PM: Officials have started an investigation of LexCorp._

 _July 4th, 2:58 PM: The Justice League has revealed that they believe the attacks from several ice villains earlier today were a diversion for an attack the Injustice League planned out, which involved stealing supplies from a laboratory in Bialya. They believe the ice villains continued their attack without word that the Injustice League had to cancel plans due to the explosion. All ice villains from today's attacks are in custody._

 _July 4th, 6:04 PM: Evidence has been found that two Injustice League members escaped the explosion; it is suspected they are the Joker and the Riddler from Gotham City._

Dick skipped the last two updates, wondering what exactly had put them all in comas… and how the Riddler wound up in that group. With his messed up mind, Dick shuttered and decided it was better not to know. But back to the comas; had there been a mishap with one of their weapons? Had one of them sabotaged the plan in an attempt to gain more control? Or-

"It was Klarion."

Richard only looked up from his computer at the sudden statement from a figure standing in his doorway. Said figure just happened to be Bruce, his blue eyes still steeled from the events only hours old. Probably still angry and brooding…

typical Bat.

Without waiting for a response, Bruce continued. "He, Wotan, and a powerful telepath who was identified as Psimon-" Richard guessed the records were ones belonging to the Injustice League, probably in some random filing cabinet in the warehouse or whatever "-were attempting to create a mental link to be used by their entire team. It backfired, causing all of them extensive brain damage."

Richard only nodded at his legal guardian, flinching inwardly at the coldness of his voice.

Bruce sighed from either exasperation or anger- Dick wasn't sure which- and noticed what his ward had pulled up on his computer. "Some details had to be left out. The public didn't need to know it all, not with only two surviving," he injected into the awkward silence, hoping for more of a response from Richard.

Another nod.

The two remained in silence, Dick sitting on his bed and Bruce standing with his arms crossed, neither knowing what to say. They'd seen each other so little lately that Dick, staring at his computer, didn't notice Bruce had left until his door clicked shut.

Alone again.

* * *

 _-this is my first time writing an AU story, and it's my first time writing a multi-chapter story for Young Justice, so i'm hoping i don't mess up the characters. (the next chapter should be up within the next week!)  
_

 _sorry for any mistakes or typos :(_

 _have an awesome day, guys! :)_


	2. Never Made a Right

**(July 19th, 3:28 AM - Wayne Manor)**

Insomnia.

Dick was sure he had insomnia. He wasn't grounded from patrol tonight; Bruce had decided to fly solo… again. For the second time that week.

Did it have anything to do with M'gann and Artemis joining the team? He knew they weren't going to throw Artemis into the mix just yet, with her background and all (Dick was well aware), but with crime miraculously down, she had time to adjust to her new teammates, and the League thought that would work out just fine.

M'gann was already getting along with Superboy quite well. Whether it was because they both lived in the mountain or not, they were going to be more than friends. Dick could tell- it was obvious.

And Artemis… she was ready to shoot Wally full of blasted arrows. Richard- no, Robin at the time- had almost blurted out for the two to get a room with how they were bickering, but thought better of it when Artemis actually threatened Wally with her bow drawn back and an arrow at his throat. That had the redheaded speedster silent instantly. Seeing this, though, provoked a smirk from Superboy, and it was the closest thing to a smile yet.

Was it Roy storming out… again? He was gone now, long gone, and Richard felt his temples throb at the thought. Roy was his friend, at least to a degree; he was one of few willing to put up with Richard's antics. But now that he was gone…

Dick was alone.

Well, not entirely; there was Wally. And Wally was a pretty loyal friend, despite his unbelievable ability to have absolutely no filter on his loud mouth… and his cocky attitude that peeked through at times (or most of the time).

Richard just frowned and rolled onto his side, the red and black bed sheets twisting. The vibrant blue in his eyes was tainted in the darkness, just slightly. Dulled down…

But he'd manage. He was Robin, the Boy Wonder.

He'd manage.

He just had to.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(July 22nd, 4:57 AM - ?)**

 _The plan had been simple._

 _Wait outside the abandoned warehouse window on the second story fire escape._

 _Get Batman's signal._

 _Break down door and attack drug dealers._

 _Tie up and/or knock out drug dealers_

 _Wait for cops._

 _Leave file of evidence behind for cops (okay, this was Batman's job specifically, but it still fit the itinerary.)_

 _Disappear just as cops pull up._

 _And yet, as Robin found himself pinned down by three huge goons, one holding a syringe near his neck loaded with something tinged a freakish shade of green, he couldn't believe the plan had failed._

 _Batman was pursuing the mastermind behind the whole thing through Gotham; as soon as the battle broke out he fled, leaving behind all the drugs in his haste. He did, however, manage to leave with his spotless Cadillac and thousands upon thousands of dollars of tainted money._

 _All the other jerks were down for the count, except these three; Batman had taken down six, Robin three._

 _And three were still left._

 _Unfortunately._

 _Robin twisted, trying fruitlessly to escape their grasp. All three were walking mountains! How had he even wound up in this position in the first pla-_

 _Oh… he got distracted. He wasn't tracted, and wound up with Idiot One, Idiot Two, and Idiot Three laughing raucously at their catch._

 _The one with the syringe laughed, all in black, his face shrouded by a red ski mask. "Well, well, well. The big bad Bat chickened out and left you behind… pity."_

 _Robin rolled his eyes. "No, he's just after your boss in the Batmobile, ready to throw the book at him."_

 _"Boss ain't done nothing'!" Idiot Two retorted, his fist connecting with Robin's face._

 _Robin snorted at that; this guy's jargon made his butchering of the English language sound beautiful. And the overwhelming smell of alcohol wasn't helping. "Oh yeah, 'cause drug dealing, Mafia connections, and running a prostitution ring are 'nothing'."_

 _"Snarky one, aren't ya?" The first snapped, fiddling with the syringe. Before Robin could blink, something pierced his neck, and the green liquid was flowing through his system. "The Bat left without you, smarty," the man hissed. "He doesn't need a pathetic SIDEKICK."_

 _Robin felt the world twist on its side. What was in that stinking syringe?! "L-liar," he weakly protested, his limbs turning to Jell-o. He grimaced as pain flowed like fire inside his veins._

 _"Little, pathetic Robin," the man taunted further. "Just a little kid with no skill. You just run around in a costume and-"_

 _"Hands up!"_

 _All at once, Robin heard the cacophony of sirens. The blaring noise made the pain increase tenfold. This was definitely not a whelming situation._

 _And it was only going to get worse when Batman showed up._

 _Suddenly the world turned on its head and Robin could feel himself dangling from the second story ledge in the warehouse. Guns clicked in the distance as the man smirked and said darkly, "Let's see if this Robin can fly," before letting the teenager fall from the ledge, to the ground thirty feet below-_

* * *

 _-and… the slow part is over! (yay for pesky cliffhangers! XD ) the events that change the course of the story and make it an AU are in place (huge domino effect going on here), so things will start picking up!_

 _(little warning: the next chapter will be fairly intense, so… just a heads-up.)_

 _and this story will have an OC. not giving anything about them away just yet… they'll be here soon enough. (maybe in the next chapter, maybe not…)_

 _after this (and i'm sorry to do this…), every update will be 2 weeks apart. when school starts up, this'll be my senior year (editor of the school paper, AP classes, to go to college or not to go to college, etc.), and i kinda need to figure out what i want to do with my life. i still don't know what i want to be… my poor guidance counselor must want to rip her hair out by now!_


	3. Some Roads

_-warning: this chapter is fairly intense. (possibly triggering- self harm)_

* * *

 **Last Chapter:**

 _"Little, pathetic Robin," the man taunted further. "Just a little kid with no skill. You just run around in a costume and-"_

 _"Hands up!"_

 _All at once, Robin heard the cacophony of sirens. The blaring noise made the pain increase tenfold. This was definitely not a whelming situation._

 _And it was only going to get worse when Batman showed up._

 _Suddenly the world turned on its head and Robin could feel himself dangling from the second story ledge in the warehouse. Guns clicked in the distance as the man smirked and said darkly, "Let's see if this Robin can fly," before letting the teenager fall from the ledge, to the ground thirty feet below-_

* * *

...

* * *

 **(July 22nd, 5:01 AM - Wayne Manor)**

"No!" Richard jumped up, his body shaking uncontrollably as he woke up, still feeling the air rush past him as he fell.

Well, at least in the nightmare.

Dick sighed shakily, his hands coming up to his forehead as he brushed back his sweat-slicked hair from his eyes, his fingertips brushing against the faint traces of dark circles painted around his blue eyes from the lack of sleep he'd gotten the last couple weeks; the same nightmare was haunting him in his sleep, the end twisted from what had truly happened the night before July fourth.

Instead of being pushed off the edge- or being dangled from it- the cops rushed up and pried the three mountains in ski masks from Robin, escorting them to their cars, ready to chauffeur them to jail in shiny silver handcuffs. Robin had regained some of his senses, and as soon as the cops turned their backs, forced himself to disappear into a dark corner, just before he threw up. Commissioner Gordon, who had shown up, could've sworn he heard retching, but wrote it off as hearing things as one of the thugs started cursing at the top of his lungs, and despite countless unheeded warnings, was tazered before being shoved into a car and hauled off to prison.

Dick licked his dry lips, shivering at the fact that he almost tasted the bile in his throat from that night still. Bruce had shown up, his scowl deeper than usual, and gruffly grabbed his ward, towing him to the Batmobile and taking off, but not before delivering the evidence.

After getting back to the Batcave, Richard had shrugged off his uniform and pulled on a random white t-shirt that had somehow escaped Alfred's folding crusade and was a wrinkled mess, as well as a pair of grey sweatpants. His senses had returned for the most part, but Dick was incredibly shaky as Bruce wordlessly took his blood and scanned it. He sat on a nearby bed in the medbay silently as Bruce finished the scans. "You'll be over the effects in time for tomorrow," was all he told his ward.

…that was it?

Dick frowned. "Wait, what was I injected with?" Bruce had been planning on not telling him?! He was the one injected! He had every right to know what was flowing through his system and possibly hurting him.

"Something that could've killed you," Bruce snapped, pulling back his cowl and glaring daggers at the computer screen, "but luckily the batch was in the wrong conditions- most likely temperature- and broke down to a very mild sedative. Now… why did you do something so stupid?! You could have easily taken down those men."

Richard went to retort, but bit his lip and looked away. He honestly didn't know what had happened on his part; he hadn't zoned out… he hadn't lost focus.

So what had he done?

And now, almost three weeks later, Dick still didn't know what quite happened that night.

But as he slipped out of his sweaty long-sleeved shirt, he had too good of an idea what it had caused.

It was summer; the Gotham heat, despite air conditioning, still managed to seep into Wayne Manor, and it was far too hot to wear a long-sleeved shirt. But Richard was wearing them to bed anyway…

in case Bruce walked in.

He stood by his window, looking at the new, cool green long-sleeved shirt he'd pulled from his drawer in the pale moonlight. Richard slowly let his eyes drift to his pale arms, more specifically… the slashes marring his pale arms.

His once tan skin from a different life, which seemed like a dream now, was like chalk. The only color, aside from veins, was from the scars healing on his wrists. The ones from only a few hours ago were wrapped in bandages or hidden under band-aids. The oldest dated back only a week and a half, and Richard wasn't sure how he felt about his new… hobby. It helped him, far more than Bruce ever had. It was numbing the pain.

And Richard wasn't stupid; they weren't deep enough to cause any damage. He wasn't planning on ending his thirteen years of bittersweet existence on this blasted Earth…

at least, he wasn't yet.

He didn't want it to go that far. But the pain was building up, despite his efforts to release it with a random blade he'd mysteriously found under his bed.

Dick sighed and pulled on the new shirt, feeling the fabric rub against his sensitive wrists.

The pain was worth it. It helped…

right?

Right…

* * *

...

* * *

 **(July 22nd, 3:34 PM - Mount Justice)**

"Rob! Come on! M'gann's cookies are only slightly burnt this time!" Wally raced over to the couch, falling onto it beside Robin and nearly taking the whole thing over backwards with the amount of force he hit it with. His green eyes were bright and sparkling at the thought of cookies… and sugar. "You can actually bite them without your teeth breaking!"

Robin rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses, crossing his arms, the black jacket and green sweatshirt a little too warm for his liking. "I think I'll pass."

Wally frowned. "Dude, come on. The big bad Bat isn't gonna care if you eat one or two cookies." Wally was well aware Dick's diet wasn't anything close to his; the Boy Wonder had to stay in perfect shape, with no deviation. But… what hazard was one blasted little cookie?

Richard shook his head. "Can't. Had some of Agent A's cookies last night. Another one, and I'll be out of shape."

His friend shook his head, his red hair showing that it needed a cut as it fell in his eyes. "Yeah, like a few cookies are gonna wipe out a six pack."

"Sorry, Wally. I can't."

Wally sighed and nodded, walking away. "More for me then!" he shouted and dashed off in a blur, something clattering to the ground and joined with a yell of, "I'm okay!" from the red-headed speedster.

Richard just bit his lip and shifted on the couch, arms still folded defensively across his chest; the angry scarlet lines marring his skin beneath the layers burned, aggravated at the movement. The newest additions to his painful collection stung as Robin curled in more on himself. He pushed on the bridge of his glasses, hoping Wally hadn't seen through his act.

There hadn't been any cookies last night. Or in the last month. With crime rates down due to the Injustice League's overwhelming levels of stupidity, Bruce had insisted Alfred take a break. And so he had, his blue eyes staring at Dick as he left for the airport for a flight to England, as if he could see the slightest hint of a shadow coming over the youngest one in the manor.

Richard regretted the lie as his stomach protested, grumbling loudly as his arms tightened around his torso. He hadn't eaten much in the last couple days; he'd been pushing himself to train harder after a minor mission with his new team went south quickly. The lack of a leader was quickly noticed, and in hopes of pleasing his brooding mentor, especially after the drug bust failure, Robin jumped at the chance, hoping Bruce would be pleased.

It backfired.

Bruce had lectured him for hours, till his face was as blue as his cool eyes. Aqualad was the leader, and Richard figured it was better that way. But seeing how Aquaman was pleased with this turn of events- his "protege" becoming a leader so quickly- made Richard wish it was him instead, getting praise (possibly? Even a small smile would've been enough.) from Bruce.

So instead, Richard was training every spare second he had. He wanted to prove himself to Bruce, and after his blunder on the mission, to his team. Being the youngest and not having any powers… he knew he had to work harder to keep up with the others. And he was trying to fight off the jealousy he had towards Kaldur for his success. He didn't hate his friend. Dick just wanted something to go in his favor, for once.

If only he could go back and fix that mission… both missions...

* * *

...

* * *

 **(August 7th, 4:06 PM - Batcave)**

"Do it again. Your focus is off."

Batman's gruff tone was starting to wear away whatever confidence Dick had left. It was nearly impossible to please Bruce to begin with, but now…

it was beyond impossible.

Bruce was sparring with him, which was the only time aside from patrol they'd spent together in the last two weeks. Richard was glad that he was able to spend some time with his adoptive father (or guardian… which sounded incredibly hollow and cold), but two hours of sparring with the most skilled member of the Justice League was beginning to wear him out. Not factoring in that Richard was eating less and sleeping less.

Bruce's hit to his chest sent him flying to the floor. "Again," came the barked order, Bruce stepping back and bringing his fists up again. He didn't notice Robin get to his feet slower, his breathing labored. Richard sighed internally and attempted for what felt like the millionth time to block the quick attack, but landed on his back once again; he was sure his back, and chest from not being able to block Bruce's punches well, were a kaleidoscope of bruises. "Why aren't you-"

Somehow, Dick managed to trip over his own feet as he stood up, his black sneakers squeaking off the hard, grey floor of the training room. Later on, he would blame it on the sweatpants he wore for training that horrible day being too big.

"-focused…" Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. What was wrong with Dick? "No patrol tonight."

"What?!" Dick jumped up, ignoring the pain flaring in his back from the fall.

"You aren't thinking straight. One move like that could get you killed… or drugged again."

Richard felt the stab in Bruce's last phrase hit home. "It was an accident, Bruce. I-"

"We're done here." Bruce walked away and left Richard standing alone. As soon as he shut- no, slammed the door in anger- Richard shook his head and looked down at his arms. The concealer Bruce had in stock for him to use (mostly for school, and at the mountain when M'gann decided to haul everyone else outside to enjoy the beach) covered the marks marring his skin well. No trace.

Bruce was oblivious.

Good.

Dick grabbed his water bottle from the bench and walked from the room, hoping that Alfred, who was finally back, wouldn't mind playing chess or Scrabble with him to pass the time tonight.

Maybe he was a bother to Alfred…

"But he's never annoyed with me…" Dick argued quietly with himself, "… or is he?" He sighed and slipped upstairs, out of the clock, past Bruce who was on the phone with Lucius, and into the small bathroom in his room. If he was a bother to Bruce, then, his mind deduced, he was most definitely a bother to the man who raised the Dark Knight.

Maybe he'd ask Alfred anyway. The most he could do was say no.

* * *

...

* * *

 **(August 7th, 6:23 PM - Wayne Manor)**

"And… you win, Alfred." Dick grinned, Alfred using his last letter title to break their tie on a triple letter score. "I wasn't aware that 'qi' is a word."

"It is accepted by the Scrabble rules, Master Dick."

Dick laughed. "And 'aster' isn't?"

Alfred just laughed and reached for his cup of tea, the fine China blending in perfectly with the rest of the estate's high end appearance. "They don't appreciate your, how do you say it… 'butchering the English language?'"

Richard cackled softly, earning more laughter from Alfred. He reached for a cookie on the plate by his hand; Alfred kept pushing them closer to him slowly as they played. Half of the dozen chocolate chip cookies had disappeared over the two hours, and the tall glass of cool chocolate milk had disappeared as well.

As the two packed up the game board and letter titles, Dick sighed. Maybe everything in the world wasn't working against him.

* * *

 _-happy 4th of July! :) it's raining here! awesome...  
_

 _i figured i'd end this on a lighter note; this chapter was pretty heavy. this won't be the only chapter with self harm. when it's in future chapters, i will put in the warning, as well as how intense it will be._

 _the updates for this story are going to be two weeks apart, at least, after i post the next chapter. i've never been in the process of posting two stories at the same time, and i'm also working on a couple of oneshots, not to mention this thing called life that insists i stay busy... i'm sorry :( but the chapters will generally be pretty big, so maybe that makes up for it?_

 _sorry for any typos :(_

 _thanks, Batmanismyhero, Robin Rider, Guest, and Pirateweasel for reviewing! :)_


	4. Never Find the Light

**(September 22nd, 6:43 PM - Mount Justice)**

"Who are we fighting?!"

"Don't know, but we're sitting ducks by these tubes!" Man, how had today gone so wrong so fast? Smoke was pouring in from somewhere, seeping through the domino mask over his bright blue eyes. Fire was being shot by something or someone- whichever didn't really matter because it still sucked. All he'd done was show up for training and this happened…

Life just got better and better.

Robin threw one last batarang, giving up on fighting with them; whoever their opponent was obviously wasn't being affected by the blasted things. "Head for the exit!"

Dodge fire? Check.

Run toward exit? Check.

Get hit by tidal wave along with Artemis?

Robin sighed; today was getting worse and worse. "Or… not."

"Unfortunately, check," Robin thought to himself, holding his breath and barely having time to brace himself as the wave greeted them and swept the two proteges off their feet. After getting hurled into a wall by the water, and as soon as he could regain his footing on the sopping wet floor, he took off running towards the gym activating the doors so they'd shut, Artemis following him as… where had the fire tornado come from?! Forcing down any feelings of panic, Robin activated his com. "Robin to team. Come in! Aqualad!"

No answer.

Nothi-

"Ah!" Richard turned as Artemis cried out, then fell to the floor with her from the force of the doors to the gym being blown open. His ribs started to hurt, as they were aggravated from the strain of running, getting thrown into a wall, and not to mention… earlier when- Richard shook his head as he stood up, not wanting to dwell on it, not now when he needed to think straight in order to beat whatever was after him and Artemis and whoever else was at the mountain.

They raced to the showers, and Robin tried something else. "Robin to Batcave! Override RG4." This had to work. "Cave calling Justice League... HOJ - Watchtower." As he and Artemis started twisting the handles on the showers, hoping to drown out the approaching swirling inferno, his fingers starting to shake as he went, he hoped it would work. "B01: Priority red!" Robin wasn't desperate; he didn't panic.

But this was NOT going well.

And… static was his only reply, crackling in his ears. The stinking com was down!

"Comm's down. Blocked," he told Artemis quickly as she grabbed an arrow, ready to fire at whoever or whatever was after them if they decided to show. "At least the water's helping-"

As if that comment were the catalyst, the knobs and shower heads decided to break instead of bend under the strain and flew from the walls, the room flooding instantly.

"-or not." Would ANYTHING work in his favor? Ever?

Robin grabbed a batarang, one of the newer explosive models Bruce had created, and set it quickly, pressing it to the wall. The wall exploded and the two were sucked out of the room, along with the water. He coughed, water dribbling down his chin that he'd just swallowed; his lungs burned, and he hadn't even been under that long. They ran again, this time to the kitchen. "We need to get lost…"

"The air vent!" Artemis exclaimed. Richard was glad someone she was able to think straight in his place; the world seemed slightly foggy for whatever reason; he heard himself say something, and Artemis' feet pounding against the floor as she headed for the vent echoed in his head. She stooped on the stovetop and turned around, wondering why Robin wasn't coming. "What are you-"

"Downloading cave blueprints. Could come in-" footsteps interrupted him. "Go, go!" Robin followed Artemis up into the air vent, pulling up the blueprints immediately. "Go left!"

As soon as they'd turned the corner, fire burst through behind them. Robin could feel the heat from it, his wet suit drying quickly from it. "Too close…" he took a deep breath and continued to read off the blueprint hologram coming from his watch. "Take the first right," he gasped, his chest aching more now than before. His suit was slightly loose, thankfully, like it was bigger…

probably because he'd been eating less.

"There should be a vent cover right in front of you…"

Robin momentarily lost all train of thought, zoned out until he realized he and Artemis were no longer in the vents, but in the generator room. Oh, and someone surrounded in fire was there too.

Wait… Robin did a double take. His brain felt like sludge; why wasn't he thinking right?!

As he and Artemis jumped from the railing to the ground below, the sound of beeping assailed his ears, making his head throb more. The generators weren't holding up under the heat, their indicators quickly turning a hazardous red instead of the safe zone green. "That's not good," Robin muttered nervously, running to a spot where the steam shooting from the pipes couldn't get to them. "I know that other access tunnel's around here somewhere-"

"You mean this one?" Artemis inquired, already throwing off the grate.

"Yeah… could've found it," Robin mumbled, throwing another explosive onto one of the generators before following her. Before they'd gotten far, he stopped. "Hold on." He synced his watch with the security systems and started hacking. "Locking out cave's motion and heat sensors to prevent the enemy from tracking us."

"And I ask again- who is the enemy?" Artemis wasn't too thrilled with their situation, either, if her tone was any indication.

Robin shrugged and smirked, regretting the first action as his ribs protested. "Let's find out. Downloading Cave security footage… there!"

The video popped up, showing their other four teammates, and Sphere, all standing around Superboy's bike. All he caught in his dazed state of mind was Wally flirting and then something was being said about Artemis… oh yeah, her starting school. He almost laughed, remembering her face as he snapped the picture. Barbara still hadn't seen the picture, and was probably wondering why he was so weird; but she always did that, so that would be normal. She was his only friend there… the only one who-

"Nah, she'll manage alright," Robin heard Wally say. Artemis was tense from whatever comment or question came before that. The rest of what KF was about to say got interrupted by an explosion.

Artemis snapped out of her own thoughts. "What happened?"

"Explosion took out the camera," Robin explained tersely, his head throbbing more now. "I'll find another angle."

But as he pulled them up and saw what looked like the team getting nearly drowned (fire and water…? What was going on?!), the pain in his head dropped to his stomach, feeling like lead. "That's it… all four are dead." He realized his word choice and rephrased with, "The cameras! I meant the cameras… I'm sure the others are okay. Just give me a sec to find the fastest route to the hangar."

"Yeah… they're fine." Artemis didn't sound too sure of that at all. "They've all got superpowers. They can handle anything."

She didn't catch Dick stiffening at that comment in the dim blue light from the hologram pouring from his watch. If she only knew...

* * *

...

* * *

"There's a secret passage behind one of these bookcases," Robin whispered to Artemis quickly as they slipped from the vents and into the library, rushing down the steps.

"Seriously? Cliche much?" Artemis halfheartedly scoffed. That was outrageous.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Robin smirked genuinely. "You should see the Batcave."

The sound of clunky footsteps had both of them reaching for weapons, Artemis' bow drawn back quickly. Both ducked behind a row of books as the steps drew closer.

"Artemis! Robin!"

Artemis immediately lit up at the metallic voice. "It's Red Tornado!" Her exclamation was followed by her rushing out of their hiding spot, while Robin couldn't help but feel something was off with-

Who… WHAT… was that?!

"Yes on the 'red', no on the 'tornado!'" Robin tackled her out of the way, rolling under a table and pulling her under with him. That was close… wait, the other figure from before looked like a female… so there were two?!

Oh, great.

And was this one responsible for the water issues, or the insane heat?

Before he could think any further, the table was smashed with one solid punch.

Robin and Artemis jumped up, rushing away from the attacker, hoping the other didn't show.

But sure enough, the one from before was back, red and gold suit muted in the dark light just like the other's, shooting fire from her hands at the teenage heroes, almost charring them.

Robin and Artemis climbed up on top of the bookshelves, running along the tops. "Who- what are they?" Artemis asked, almost losing her footing as the sprinkler system triggered on from the smoke.

Robin didn't answer. Just ducked under the one shelf and landed on the floor, Artemis trying to stall the attackers by firing an arrow, only to have it deflected by a water shield. Seriously?! This was definitely a disaster…

but no time to think about that.

The female robot sent a punch into a bookshelf, turning the vast quantity of books and shelves into dominos that were sure to collapse on the two. Artemis jumped down, watching as Robin looked over the books, pulling on one with a red cover that read _The Mysteries of Udolpho_. The shelf slid away, revealing a secret passage like he'd said earlier and they took off as the shelf slid back over the opening. With any luck, the two Reds (that's what Dick decided to call them- it fit, after all) would be confused or at the very least stalled.

As they ran through a dimly lit tunnel, Artemis couldn't help but ask, "Did you know Tornado had… siblings?!" She probably figured he knew more about the Justice League; it was obvious he knew more about them than the others.

But he didn't know this, so… "No."

They stopped at an intersection in the tunnel as Artemis grabbed his arm. "So now what? Red Tornado is one of the powerhouses of the League! How are we supposed to take down TWO of him?!"

"They do seem pretty user-unfriendly," Robin commented, shrugging. Inside, he was in full blown panic mode- red lights flashing, sirens ringing and blaring, the works. Everyone already doubted his skill as the youngest on the team after his bungle earlier; he was sure they did, with the way his ideas were either hesitantly accepted, or outright rejected. But he had to keep cool; he wanted to save his friends, wherever they were.

Maybe he could prove something to Batman… Maybe-

"Don't joke! They-"

"Attention, Robin. Attention, Artemis." Oh, great. An announcement from an all-powerful Red. This wasn't going to be good. "You have exactly ten minutes to surrender, or the lives of your teammates will be extinguished."

Robin looked at Artemis, his domino mask hiding the worry and bleakness taking hold of the tiny grey tinge to his eyes, dulling them further from their bright blue.

This… this was really not his day.

* * *

…

* * *

"Eight minutes."

Robin turned to Artemis as they ran through another tunnel, his brain working on overdrive. There had to be something… anything! "We can access the hangar from here." That would work, right? It-

And… introduce tidal wave, part two.

Robin rolled his eyes. "Or not."

"Will you please stop saying that?" Artemis pleaded, wondering how he was being so… so calm about this? How was Robin not freaking out?!

If only she knew how he was reacting to the scenario… His blue eyes were wide behind the mask as the wave overtook them. Pulled a breathing apparatus from his utility belt. Slipped one to Artemis-

and one of the Reds grabbed her.

Dick was really getting sick of this whole thing. He grabbed one of the arrows floating in the water nearby and stabbed the robot's eye, shooting a grappling hook into the far wall as he pulled Artemis with him, leaving the robot behind, explosive batarangs floating behind him.

The two surfaced, not sooner enough for either's liking. Gasped for breath. Dick was finally starting to feel the burning in his lungs fade when someone- with the buzzing in his ears he wasn't quite sure who- shouted, "Look out!"

And they doves back under just in time.

The water above them steamed from getting hit with a fireball. As soon as they'd surfaced though, another fireball flew their way, causing them to dive again. Richard was almost wishing one of the blasted things would incinerate him, removing his painful existence from the thing better known as life. They swam over to… whatever was wrapped around Kid Flash and Superboy, restraining them as the water gradually rose. Robin didn't take time to catch his breath. "You guys okay?"

Superboy couldn't care less about himself. "Forget us! Help M'gann!"

Robin looked up. Fire cage imprisoning a martain used to the cold and an Atlantian…

not good.

So not good.

"Aqualad, is she-"

"She is unconscious," Aqualad cut off Artemis' panicked question; not being able to see him or M'gann's condition wasn't helping Dick any. "I fear she- we- cannot survive much longer."

Another fireball shot towards them and they dove again, swimming to the stairs and the platform where Sphere was half embedded in the wall. How that happened… Dick decided to think about that later, or just leave that unanswered. He and Artemis quickly climbed the stairs, only to have one Red on each side.

"I'm almost out of arrows." Artemis was tense. He could hear it.

"Distract her! Now!"

Everything became a shaky blur, the pain in his chest flaring up again with a vengeance. Robin snapped back to reality as they dove from the steps and he was pulling a grate off a pipe, crawling inside it. Any adrenaline from earlier was starting to drain away, his body throbbing dully as the two had to sit down.

"Six minutes." Thank you, stupid red robot.

"What do we do know?" He was faced with Artemis asking the question he'd been trying to find an answer to.

He sighed. "We save them. That's how it works." At least, that's how he hoped against hope it would work.

"Maybe that's how it's supposed to work, but those robots already took out our four SUPER-POWERED friends!"

Robin almost said how well aware he was of that fact, but instead said soflty, "You seem distraught."

"Distraught?! M'gann is dying! We have no powers, and I'm down to my last arrow! Of course I'm distraught!"

"Well get TRAUGHT, or get dead!" Robin snapped, more for himself than Artemis. He knew how she felt. He knew too well…If only Artemis knew how that feeling of being powerless affected him… it was hard enough being the youngest.

Dick didn't want to admit it, but he was all for hiding in the mountain and not budging until the League showed up somehow. He was already failing at everything else in life. Why not blow this whole situation, too?

"How can you be so calm?"

Calm? Ha. "Practice. Been doing this since I was nine." It was a mask, all part of the mask that came with being Robin.

"What good is that now? What chance do we have against unrelenting machines?"

Machines…

"Duh, they're machines!" Robin couldn't believe he didn't see it sooner. Oh wait… he could believe it. "And one electromagnetic pulse'll shut down any machine within range."

"Great!" Artemis' excitement that there was a plan quickly turned to sarcasm. "Except you better have an EMP emitter in your utility belt because I know I don't have one in my quiver."

Rob glared at first, but smirked at the end. "I'm fresh out. But I'm betting we can make one. Whadya say, KF? Doable?"

"Totally doable!" Wally was glad there was some sort of idea in the works.

"Five minutes."

Crap. "Ya know, if you had more time."

Dick sighed at his friend's second comment. They would pull this off. They had to.

* * *

…

* * *

"Med lab. X-ray machine. You'll find a small vacuum tube called a vircator-" As they reached what Wally was directing them to over the comma, Dick pondered for a moment if Artemis was in shock over Wally actually having a part of his brain that didn't bask in the knowledge of flirting or how to be an arrogant egomaniac, "-that converts high energy pulses. Reprogram the unit's microwave conversion from x-rays to EMPs with a cascading energy vector directed outward." Robin wished he knew more than half of what was being said. He knew how to do it, but this was science, not math.

"A ripple effect," he pieced together as he changed the conversion, "like dropping a stone in a pond."

"A stone with ten to the twelfth power wattage? Yeah."

Robin finished, pulling out the device, and realized something that could cause the whole thing to crash and burn. "So I need to hook it up to the cave's main generator."

"Which is where?" Artemis could tell by Robin's silence that she wasn't going to like the answer.

* * *

…

* * *

"Four minutes."

Robin wanted to scream. If this went wrong… he might as well give up.

From his and Artemis' perch above the Reds, he could see the water rise higher, Connor and Wally lifting their heads up to avoid it as much as possible. Robin pressed his comm with a shaky hand. "Okay, make with the distraction."

"Hey! Red Tomato!" Okay Wally, not your best work, but good enough. "Who's your girlfriend? Red Onion?"

Superboy chimed in, and Robin wasn't sure whether to face palm or laugh at his attempt. "Yeah, and by the way, worst death trap ever! We can escape anytime we want!"

Time to move.

"I can vibrate my molecules outta here before your binary brains can count to two." Okay, that one was better, Wally.

Robin glanced at Artemis. "Cover me." He hooked up a newer grappling hook Batman had been working on and slipped down with the vircator, stooping on top of the generator.

"And you can't drown a Kryptonian, dumb bots. We don't breathe air." Okay, Superboy really needed some help with trashtalk.

Kid Flash laughed raucously, making Robin's head throb. It felt as if little daggers were piercing his temples every so many seconds. He shook his head and got to work, hooking up the vircator and syncing his watch to it as Wally continued with, "And Miss Martian? I can't believe you're buying her act!"

"Rerouting power now…" Robin glanced over at his trapped friends as they kept talking.

"Yeah!" Superboy chimed in again. "Do you know how hot it gets in the caves of Mars?"

Getting better… but still needed lessons at how to properly tick someone off.

Robin frowned, getting anxious as nothing happened. "It's not working…"

"That cage is just making her homesick!" Connor added onto his comment.

Dick looked at the vircator; what was causing it to remain idle?

No connection.

"Circuit's incomplete…" Why did everything bad have to revolve around him today? Couldn't one thing just work?! He started searching through the pockets and pouches on his utility belt. "I need something conductible, a piece of metal or-"

"ROBIN, LOOK OUT!"

He didn't even get to look up before a tidal wave swept over him, the pressure amplifying the pain he was already in. He couldn't breathe; his lungs started burning almost instantly. He struggled, hoping there was a way to surface…

and then just stopped.

He could feel his hold on consciousness slipping from his grasp and Robin, for only a second, wished oblivion would come faster.

And hold him there forever, where the pain wouldn't follow.

His last thought before unconsciousness consumed him wasn't that, however.

He just hoped Artemis could save the others… like he'd failed to do.

* * *

…

* * *

"H-He's breathing, too."

Artemis…

that was Artemis.

Robin forced his eyes open, still, just a sliver of hope still remaining, that he hadn't left the grey realm of nothingness. It would be an upgrade over being a disappointment.

So, when the others had asked what had happened, he lied. Told them he was pretending to surrender, only to black out.

And they believed it.

"Will you quit playing with that thing and cut us free already?" Wally snapped, Robin wincing lightly at how loud he was. The pain was worse now. But if Batman insisted on checking him over, the injuries from earlier that day would blend right in with the rest.

So… it was a very painful blessing in disguise.

"Artemis rolled her eyes and snapped back with, "It doesn't work, genius! EMP shuts down all machines, remember?"

"All machines present at the time."

All heads turned to Red Tornado, and Richard could've sworn he could feel the fact that something would happen.

The rest was a blur, except for him and Wally both shouting that the pulse had worn off.

And for whatever reason- he would later learn it was from Tornado sucking the air from the cave- Robin passed out, earning another bruise. This one on his head from the stone floor.

* * *

…

* * *

(September 23rd, 12:04 AM - Batcave)

Well, Bruce wasn't too upset over the events involving the Reds.

But he was upset over his ward's lengthy list of injuries.

"Mild concussion, one cracked rib, three bruised ribs, a twisted ankle, and half your body is covered in bruises…" Bruce sighed, pulling of his cowl and glaring at the floor. Dick wasn't about to argue; he knew half his body looked like a finger-painting gone bad. With some help from Alfred, he'd managed to get out of his suit and into a loose t-shirt and sweatpants. Bruce's glare left, replaced by… concern? That was a foreign emotion that he hadn't shown in a while. He opened his mouth to say something, only to close it and instead say, "You need to rest for a week. No patrol, in case something goes wrong."

Richard just looked at the floor and nodded, his emotions jumbled worse than a ball of yarn. Whatever Bruce was about to say before, only to replace it, was probably something along the lines of "are you okay?", which he hadn't asked at any point tonight. True, in the cave he hadn't because half the League was there and he had a tough edge, a tough mask, to uphold.

But as time went on, Dick wasn't so sure there was much of a mask left to separate Bruce Wayne from Batman.

And that scared him.

* * *

 _-sorry for any mistakes/typos :(_

 _the next chapter will be up in two weeks. i really didn't expect this to get so much of a response, so thanks, guys! :) it really means a lot :) if you have any comments, criticism, etc., please let me know._

 _thanks, Robin Rider, PhantomStriker14, Minikat006, Guest, 3DPhantom, and MevV618 for reviewing! :)_


	5. If It's Broken

_-hi, guys! i'd been debating whether or not i should do this, but since it was requested in a review (thanks, Guardian of Loyalty! :) ), there will now be a short recap at the beginning of every chapter._

 _so..._

 _the last chapter was basically the episode "Homefront"; everything went the same way it does on the show (with a little angst thrown in thanks to Robin's thoughts), and afterwards, Batman's inability to show his concern didn't help matters:_

 _here's the next chapter!_

* * *

 **(September 30th, 10:38 AM - Gotham Academy)**

"Welcome, class. I hope you're all ready for your test on matrices…"

A collective groan that Dick was sure could be heard in Metropolis rose up from the class. He didn't groan with the rest, though he was highly tempted to. The teachers expected his eagerness to learn; well, all of them except his English teacher, who dreaded grading his reports with his, how did she put it… oh, his "brutal murder of the beautiful English language".

Sure enough, Mr. Charles noticed his star student's silence. "Well, at least one of you isn't dreading my tests."

"Nerd," someone whispered quite loudly behind Dick. He sighed and stared down at his desk, his eyes seeming to see through the wood and to the blue and grey tile under his feet. Oh, if only Mr. Charles could know how wrong he was…

The spindly, grey-haired teacher pushed his old-fashioned glasses up higher on his pointed nose, green eyes piercing each student as he distributed the test.

Richard smiled up at the teacher, knowing it was what he expected by now. But as soon as the teacher walked away, his smile faded into a deep frown. His grades had been slightly slipping; anymore, and Bruce would start asking questions, ground him from patrol, pull him from the team to get his sorry act together…

Dick's blue eyes scanned the test in dismay. Thirty questions. Thirty questions not meant for an Algebra 2 class. Matrices were for Pre-Calculus, and whatever possessed the older teacher (probably a hint of insanity, as his homework assignments were pure torture) to assign this chapter…

For once in his life, Richard Grayson, Gotham Academy Mathlete Champion, had no idea what he was doing on a math test.

"Pathetic charity case forgot to pay off the teacher for the answers," a sophomore behind him sneered, having to re-take the class. Richard's skin whitened at his harsh tone. It was Brent. Brent Adams… the popular athlete who liked to make the last Grayson's life a disaster, stressing the prefix with every fiber of his wretched being.

Richard ignored him, but his flinch at the words was enough for Brent to notice. "Stupid little Dick… maybe your daddy can bail you out," he sneered, writing down his answers which he was unaware were entirely wrong.

Dick tapped his pencil off the line that read "Name". He was screwed. No, he was beyond screwed…

He was dead.

Suddenly, something brushed past him. Richard looked up at the breeze that went past, shaking his head when he saw no one had walked down the row of desks. "I'm imagining things… again…" He sighed and took a deep breath, trying to focus. "I'm only losing my mind here. No big deal."

He decided to at least attempt the problems; maybe he wouldn't fail as bad as he expected. Maybe he'd-

"Class! Who threw that?!"

Dick looked up, all eyes in the room directed at the now irate teacher. His pernicious glare shot daggers at his students as he pointed at the floor to a paper airplane that had, if the smeared chalk on the green chalkboard was any indication, hit his notes for the next class on square roots…

"I believe I asked a question," the teacher rasped, deeply angered at the disrespect. "Who did this?"

A jumbled, quiet chorus of "not me" arose, and the teacher shook his head, leaving the class to their tests. He sighed, biting his lip in anger and grabbed an eraser, starting to erase the ruined thirty minutes of work from his free period earlier. So inconsiderate, so-

"-next up, Angelina Jolie's interview with our very own…"

Mr. Charles grabbed up the TV remote from his desk, muting the TV. He looked around, his age a mix of angry and fearful. There were only two ways the television could be turned on. One was using the remote. The other was pushing the button on the television-

which was suspended above the blackboard… nine feet up.

Dick watched the television, frowning at his teacher's expression as he whirled around, the papers on his desk rustling and blowing. The breeze from before… it was back.

And he wasn't the only one feeling it.

Something started floating to Dick's left, and he and three other students took notice of a pencil hovering three feet off an empty desk, the eraser smudged and dirty. One boy recognized it as his, glancing from his desk to the levitating writing device several times before comprehending what was happening.

How-

SLAM!

Everyone's heads turned instantly to the right as one of the three windows over the heating unit was slammed open.

Then the second.

And then the third.

Richard was shaking, like the rest of his class. What was happening?! He thought he was losing his mind...

Brent shook. "What-"

"-and the new _Iron Man_ movie received-"

The television snapped back on, the volume so loud and the music under the announcer so raucous the speakers were crackling. Mr. Charles was quaking, grabbing the edge of his desk in fear. "W-who's doing this?"

No answer came, except for another paper airplane soaring across the room and striking the bully Brent in the face with a magnificent speed that left a red mark on his cheek. Several students laughed as he rubbed the now sore spot, the plane falling to the floor, the nose crumpled. He was scared, but more mortified now that he had been a target of the strange events.

Richard glanced around, trying to figure out what was causing everything to turn into chaos, the blank page in front of him forgotten. One girl screamed, "The room's haunted!"

That didn't help poor Mr. Charles any, who jumped a mile high as the one window slammed closed… from the outside. It was pulled from the outside of the school, now clicked shut as the other two windows proved no protection against the bitter late September wind. He rubbed his chest, his grey sweat vest now slightly crooked and his hair disheveled as he ran his hands through it, trying to make sense of the last five minutes' events. "Class…" he could barely speak. "Take the test home… f-finish it for homework." He seriously wished the room was on the second floor, not ground level, so the prankster, or probable ghost, had received some injury as reciprocation for their efforts.

Dick couldn't believe his luck. Maybe he could figure this out after all… Bruce had already said he was patrolling alone… again. Why was Bruce going solo so much anymore? Was… no, that was silly.

But Richard couldn't help but wonder…

was Batman sick of toting Robin around with him?

… was he really just a sidekick?

* * *

…

* * *

 **(September 30th, 8:57 PM - Wayne Manor)**

"So it's row one from the first matrix multiplied by column one in the second matrix… or is it the other way around?" Dick sighed and banged his head off his math book, staring at the mostly blank test still in front of him, his blue lead pencil tapping off the third problem. Why was everything working against him?

Maybe he should just give up, stop being a bother, an annoyance…

a waste of space.

Those horrible, harsh labels were starting to burrow into his thoughts, his mind riddled with the names.

Charity case.

Circus freak.

Nerd.

Pathetic mathlete.

Stupid.

Clumsy.

And the worst one…

IMPERFECT.

That one might as well be tattooed on his pale forehead… by Bruce. Batman was the only one he saw anymore. Cold, dark, hard Batman. Sometimes he swore Bruce's heart was as cold and emotionless as the ground when Gotham iced over in the winter.

Sighing, Dick ran a hand through his hair and glared at the math book. "You," he growled at it, his voice dripping with venom, "are officially my enemy." He flipped a few pages heatedly, trying to find the right section so maybe, in some alternate dimension, he'd pass someho-

RIIIPPP!

Dick froze, staring at the page he'd just turned. A rip raced up from the corner to the very middle of the page, right in the middle of a word problem. He shook his head, feeling it throb mercilessly. Absolutely nothing was going in his favor.

Absolutely.

NOTHING.

Dick grabbed the blue tape dispenser off the corner of his desk and tore off a piece, the blazing embers of anger quickly dying out. He repaired the page, flipping it slowly this time. Where was that section? Where-

Dick didn't notice his eyes slowly closing, the world around him fading to black as sleep overtook him, his head landing with a thump on his math book, his pencil falling to the floor.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(October 1st, 5:43 AM - Wayne Manor)**

Something wasn't right.

Dick wasn't awake. Yet not asleep. But something just felt… off.

He rolled over, trying to figure out why he was so cold-

and fell onto the floor in a heap.

Richard jumped up, the world slightly spinning from hitting his head. He groaned, looking around. "Wha…? How-"

A glance at the clock told him he'd slept, almost eight hours ago, in a blasted desk chair. And now his back protested his every attempt at standing up straight. He winced, hobbling over to his desk; his knees didn't like being bent underneath him all night either, apparently. What had he been doing at his desk in the first place?

Oh no…

The test!

Dick just hung his head, unable to believe he'd fallen asleep. The test wasn't done! He'd only finished two problems, and they were most definitely wrong. He couldn't hand this in! He-

"How…?" Richard stared at the test laying on top of his matchbook, every question answered. Neat boxes were drawn around each solution. And in his handwriting. Had he finished the test before falling asleep? No, he couldn't have. It wasn't possible… or was it? Dick sighed and decided not to question whatever had caused his test to be finished, instead flipping to the next page in his book so he could stick the test inside it and carry it to class in the textbook.

Richard frowned, seeing a slightly crimped piece of notebook paper folded in the middle of the next page. He grabbed it, turning it in his hands for a moment; it wasn't from his notebook. Two wretched days ago, Brent had decided to christen his locker- with all his books inside- with a can of Coke for whatever twisted reason. Now his books were sticky and stained.

This paper wasn't in the best condition, but it was a far cry from Coke-splattered. He unfolded it gingerly, rubbing the corners as his anxiety over the test reared its ugly head once more. He mouthed what was written on the paper, his mind apparently picking today to not comprehend English; Romani was taking over, and the words were just a jumble at first. Granted it was only three words.

 _It gets better._

The writing was definitely not anyone's in his class. It was a jumble of uppercase and lowercase letters. But it had an almost artistic flow to it; it was only the "i" and the three "e's" that were lowercase.

But who had written this?

Dick shrugged and stuffed the note back into the book, a small smile appearing at the incredibly small, but oh so generous, gesture. He had school to get to, and for the first time this year, he wasn't entirely dreading it.

* * *

 _-so... any guesses on what happened in the classroom? trust me, there's gonna be more strange events to come, as well as more angst. definitely more angst..._

 _sorry for any typos; been super busy with visiting family, tons of yardwork, and way too many bug bites._

 _how am i doing so far? good? bad? uglier than the Joker's face? (my little cousin was visiting and we've been tearing apart Lego Batman 2, so i've been seeing a lot of the Joker's creepiness lately.) please let me know._

 _next chapter: a huge AU (i just made things happen a lot sooner than the show did) twist_

 _thanks, Guardian of Loyalty, Sairey13, 3DPhantom, Tayashia, Guest, WildChild13, and MevV618 for reviewing! :)_


	6. You Should Fix It

_-the last chapter was, well, crazy. Take a math test that Dick wasn't ready for, add in an arrogant bully, and then remember to add the TV turning on and the floating pencil and the windows opening and closing on their own. Yeah, that was pretty chaotic._

 _(This Chapter: possibly triggering- self harm: it's mentioned, but not in great detail.)_

* * *

 **(October 15th, 8:09 PM - Mount Justice)**

The mountain felt foreign.

At first, Robin had hoped- foolishly hoped, now that he looked back on it- that Mount Justice… the team… would be a chance to prove himself.

That was at the beginning of this mess.

But now, three months later, he felt like he wasn't proving anything except the fact that he was worthless.

Completely and entirely worthless.

The best evidence of that was himself. His wrists were wrapped tightly under his red hoodie and black jacket, still smarting from the hastily applied antiseptic and bandages. He hadn't expected Bruce to say his grounding for… whatever he'd done (honestly, it was because of, wait for it… one low test grade. Apparently a C- was worthy of a grounding, when all his other grades were sky high.) had magically disappeared. But now it had, the days all jumbled together to the point where Dick couldn't remember what the date was. All he knew was he got out of bed when his alarm clock cried out, stumbled through school, scribbled his way through his homework, and fumbled through training or patrol; he sketched in time for his scarlet beadwork whenever he needed to.

Lately, there hadn't been much of either.

While his brain was still trying to figure out if it was Tuesday or Thursday (he hoped Tuesday; he had a report on World War I due Friday), his eyes were trying to figure out what was unfolding in front of them.

Artemis and Wally…

on the green couch…

HOLDING. HANDS.

"Whoa! What'd I miss?" Richard quickly slipped out of his mental fog and into his alert state of mind. What? Robin couldn't be half out of it. He had to be on top of things.

Wally smirked. "Not much… just a life or death situation that finally made Blondie here realize her true feelings for-" he pointed dramatically at himself "-the Wallman."

Artemis rolled her eyes. "If I remember correctly, you're the one who kissed me after the building nearly blew up with us in it."

Richard's eyes widened behind his glasses; he pushed his thumb against the left arm of the sunglasses, making sure they were hiding his Jupiter-sized eyes. "You two… kissed… on a mission… what…?" He shook his head. "I've been telling you to get a stinking room for how long?! How in the world did this happen?"

Wally shrugged, and Dick noticed something about his face portrayed a hint of… annoyance? No, Wally wasn't annoyed by him. They were best friends! Dick convinced himself he was imagining it as Wally started to explain it. "Well…"

* * *

…

* * *

 **(On the mission (in Gotham))**

"Watch where you're running, genius!" Artemis griped, pulling another arrow from her quiver as she glared at Wally.

Wally skidded to a stop, glaring back and snapping, "Watch where you're shooting, Blondie!"

Artemis growled at that, the ceiling groaning as she did. She looked up pitifully. What had been so hard about this mission from Batman?

Get the plans for Scarecrow's newest fear-gas… which he was dumb enough to leave unattended.

And it was a stinking trap.

At least, it hadn't looked like a trap at the time. Batman said Scarecrow had fled when he got word from a lackey that the cops were tipped off to his location.

But now, with the ceiling ready to fall on the entire team- minus Robin, of course… grounded bird- it was most definitely a trap.

"This was most likely planned for Batman, not us!" Aqualad called out as the ceiling shook again. Some sort of bomb or multiple bombs were laced into the ceiling, going off at certain times, all triggered by some motion sensor when they burst in, kicking in a battered door. The ceiling over the doors and exits had collapsed first in the old warehouse- why was everything revolving around a warehouse?! Now the team collectively decided the whole of the ceiling was coming down next in a matter of seconds.

Superboy had to rush over to M'gann, helping her and a winded Aqualad out from under fallen support beams and crates. Aqualad was just bruised around his ribs and torso, but M'gann was barely conscious. "We need to leave! NOW!" Connor bellowed, hoisting M'gann somewhat gently over his shoulder and using his other arm to help support his leader as they fled, Aqualad wincing as the ceiling cracked again, plaster and dust raining on their heads as Artemis was shooting where she could see several lights in the ceiling, hitting the trigger points on the bombs and disabling some so they had a better chance- not much of a chance, though- to escape.

Wally zoomed over to Artemis, the ceiling pouring down on where he'd just been standing. "Too… close!" he gasped, his suit scuffed from barely escaping the newest explosion. His hair was matted with sweat and white flakes of plaster as he grabbed Artemis' arm. "We have to go!"

"What? No snappy remarks?" she ground out, shooting again.

Wally only took a second to look at the blood flowing in streams down her arms from various cuts from the falling debris and scooped her in his arms before she could blink as the ceiling cracked again.

And even if he went as fast as he could, he wasn't sure they'd make it out.

In fact…

he didn't know how Connor and the others had made it out.

Crap.

Something slammed into Wally's back, and he pushed himself harder, knowing that he was probably bleeding and that this might be the end.

A stupid recon mission…

Someone screamed in the distance as he turned around, running backwards through a weak point in the outer wall's metal, right where it was thin. Of course, he hadn't known that. But the wall had dented easily…

so it was a chance.

Kid Flash skidded across the rough deck of the pier on his back, his body screaming in protest as his suit was definitely torn now. He felt something he couldn't quite remember what with how his head was spinning- fly from his arms, his name being called from what seemed like a never-ending tunnel as he finally stopped tumbling over and over, his body aching.

He definitely deserved a quadruple sundae with anything humanly possible on it. Even ketchup. Yeah, that sounded good.

"Wally!" There was that far away voice again, echoing irritably in his ears. Shut up! Someone gently rolled him off his stomach, and he moaned as the rough, wet deck cut into his exposed back where the suit was now gone. "Wally, come on! Say something! You're okay!"

Kid Flash just coughed weakly, whoever it was above him apparently relieved as they-

kissed him.

Whoa… what in the world brought this on?

KF didn't know who it was, but with how passionate it was, he didn't have much time to care as his muddled mind snapped into focus on one thing: trying to get his semi-responsive body to respond and kiss back. His lips finally moved in time with theirs and they pulled away a moment later, hovering in a blur over his face as the world cleared. "You're… you're okay," he heard, and for once it wasn't ringing.

His lips slightly numb from the exertion it took to respond to the spontaneous show of… whatever in the world that was, Wally just gaped as he recognized the voice.

Artemis…

She… had… KISSED HIM?!

Oh boy.

Wally smirked, his mind starting to clear a little. "Wow, sweet cheeks… didn't know you felt that way."

Artemis tried to glare at him. "Don't think about it too much, genius. Your brain might explode from the effort. I'm just glad you're alive after that stunt."

"W-What?" Wally coughed slightly, still filled with euphoria. "I wasn't leaving you behind," he rasped as she started to help him up gingerly.

Artemis froze. "You…"

Wally rolled his eyes. "Okay, so maybe I like you a little," he admitted, wincing as he found his feet.

"And you decided to act like a pervert to cover that up?"

"Well-" Wally nearly fell over as the others rushed over, helping to support him as they headed for the Bio-Ship. "Why not? Seemed like a good idea," he slurred as the world cruelly faded from his grasp and he passed out.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(October 15th, 8:14 PM - Mount Justice (basically, just 5 minutes later than before the flashback thingy))**

"Wow…" Robin decided the floor was a good place to sit. "That… I missed all that?"

Wally nodded, something off about his gaze. "Yeah. You missed a lot. If you only knew what it was like."

Dick was slightly confused. "What? The mission?"

"No, boy genius," Wally scoffed. Dick wasn't sure if he was joking or not. "Having a girlfriend."

That kinda stung. Robin laughed it off, hoping Wally was joking. "So… KF, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Wally nodded and got up, leaving Artemis with the TV remote. The other three members of their team were off training, so there was no worry of Superboy deciding static was a great show to watch for hours on end.

The two boys walked to the kitchen and Wally asked, "Okay, what's up, Dick?"

He sounded… normal? Annoyed? What was it? "Are… are you still coming over Friday?" Richard managed to get out, regretting that he sounded younger than he was with that question. He was in shock that Bruce hadn't cancelled Wally coming over to play video games.

"Uh, no can do, Robbie," Wally said as he fished a bag or two (or six) of potato chips from a cabinet, indifferent as his friend's face crumpled for a second before transforming back to it's slowly crumbling mask. "Plans with Artemis."

Dick nodded. "Okay." So what? It was only one time. Wally would come next time.

Right?

* * *

…

* * *

(October 19th, 3:56 PM - Wayne Manor)

Five days ago Richard asked Wally if he was coming over.

Four days ago Wally had rescheduled for Saturday, and then Sunday.

Three days ago Richard was looking forward to some of the fun a normal kid might have.

Two days ago had been Friday.

One day ago was Saturday.

And now it was Sunday.

And Wally was almost four hours late.

Dick sighed, running his fingers over the valleys and ditches he'd created that coated his wrists and part way up his arms. Two more had been added Friday, when Brent and a few buddies had decided to taunt him again, his time with a post-it on his locker that read… well, if Richard were to repeat it in the presence of Alfred, he'd be tasting soap for a week. The cuts weren't getting deeper; some just wound up that way randomly.

Richard swung his legs on his bed as he pulled his grey sweatshirt sleeves down, a sweatshirt with GOTHAM plastered across the front in silver and blue. Gift from the Commissioner when he'd been kidnapped last winter. Gordon was cool. His daughter was nice enough. About as good of a friend as he'd ever find.

But even Barbara seemed a little distant. She'd been involved in so many extracurricular activities in the last year that Richard didn't see her much. They still texted or talked… on occasion.

But back in the present, focusing on Wally. Richard grabbed up his phone, the newest one Wayne Tech had to offer. He found Wally's number in the contacts and shakily pressed "send", worried that his friend was ditching him again.

Artemis wouldn't take his place. She wouldn't…

Richard's breath hitched as the phone rang-

and voicemail answered.

Well, actually it was the phone automation saying Wally's voicemail was full.

Dick dropped the phone on his bed, falling backwards on the twisted sheets. He'd tried so hard to avoid the little voice in his head that told him he was wrong to hope.

But the voice had been right.

His fingers twitched, and Richard didn't even fight the urge to pull his newest blade from his pocket as he bolted for his bathroom, locking the door behind him as he stared at the razor blade, breathing heavy. He was glad Alfred and Bruce were gone, both at a meeting for a press conference.

"Guess it's just you and me," he whispered, the tears starting to fall.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(October 20th, 4:15 - Mount Justice)**

Something felt off.

Robin looked around as he opened the fridge and looked in. Coke, six or seven different little six packs of juice, and water bottles…

his hand inched towards the juice, but his stomach churned and Robin sighed, grabbing a chilled water. He hadn't felt hungry lately. No, he wasn't sick. It was the mental agony eating away at him. Only Alfred had noticed him eating less at dinner (he didn't know Dick threw out most of his lunch at school); Bruce was too busy to notice much of anything. At least, to Dick's knowledge he was.

Robin softly closed the refrigerator door and stared down at his hand. His fingers were thinner. His blue sweatshirt and black jacket were loose, almost baggy. The same went for his dark skinny jeans which… weren't so skinny. His suit even fit differently. He wasn't losing any muscle- Richard trained excessively, pushing his body to its limits so he could manage the pain.

And that's what he'd been doing today.

But, as he twisted the cap off the bottle, he couldn't shake the feeling that something felt off.

What was it? Had M'gann left cookies in too long again and at any moment the oven would explode? A quick two steps and a check of the stove and oven proved that wasn't the case. Was Wally messing around with another alien weapon or artifact? What was-

 _Robin, Black Canary wants us to join her in fifteen minutes for training._

There.

That was it.

Not the training part. M'gann's link.

Robin took a sip of the water and slowly applied every technique he'd learned (most from Batman… though Bialya's mission had proved they didn't always work) to shut down his side of the link. Whenever M'gann or anyone else used it and he could hear, it caused him to get headaches; the more communication, the worse the pain.

As far as he knew, none of the others had that response to her mind link. Dick didn't know why he had to be the special one yet again.

But he was.

Thankfully, Richard could feel his connection to the martian fade, his head still throbbing slightly. There had to be a better technique for doing this than any Batman had taught him; his never fully worked.

As he left the kitchen and headed to join the others, Dick decided he would bury the matter for now. He had other things to worry about.

* * *

...

* * *

 **(October 20th, 12:04 AM - Wayne Manor)**

Patrol had gone well. Bruce had actually let him come this time, for whatever reason. And there wasn't much to do. Two muggings stopped, another petty drug dealer taken down…

it was a good night.

Richard was happy. He'd gotten to be with Bruce! Batman and Robin were back!

For… one night.

Dick refused to open his eyes as he snuggled his face into his pillow, immediately taking notice of the fact that Alfred had washed his bed sheets. He was wrapped up under the comforter and a fluffy green blanket; he'd been colder at night, and he was chalking it up as weight loss. Before this whole ordeal, he weighed 130 pounds.

Now?

He'd slipped to 127 by the end of July, and then to 118 by mid-August. By September, his incredibly toned chest was starting to show the outline of his ribs just slightly at 112.

And currently, he was looking at finding a better belt because 105 pounds of nothing but bone and muscle didn't fit his clothes.

He hadn't grown at all, and Dick was seriously wondering if even 5' 6" was an attainable goal for height as he pulled the covers tighter around him.

In the process though, his thick sweatpants had slid off his hips and down to his knees under the blankets. Richard didn't bother adjusting them this time; it'd be the eleventh time in twenty minutes he'd done so. And besides, even if they slipped off completely, he was wearing boxers. What? He was a modest kid. He didn't want Alfred or Bruce coming in and seeing him without any clothes.

Speaking (or thinking) of Alfred…

The butler had noticed Richard's dropping weight. He'd gently asked him one morning as he drove him to the intimidating gates of Gotham Academy if everything was okay. Richard had a feeling that his cheerful response had been a little too transparent for the butler as Alfred smiled sadly, his blue-grey eyes taking on a look that Richard recognized as deep thought and concern.

But why be concerned with him? Why?

Who was he that he should deserve concern?

Suddenly the green blanket was pulled closer to his face. Richard tensed slightly.

This wasn't the first time either.

Over the last week, someone had been sitting by his bedside, adjusting his blankets if they fell or he shivered. The night Wally blew him off… they'd been rubbing his shoulder gently, and a warm hand slowly smoothed out his hair.

Oddly, they'd never said word one.

And he was sure it wasn't Bruce or Alfred; even in a half asleep state, he was positive the other two occupants of the house weren't the ones comforting him.

Dick took a deep breath as the hand moved to his hair, beginning to card through it methodically. He wanted so badly to discover who his mysterious comforter was, but like every other night, his affection and sleep deprived mind caved in to the actions and he drifted off to sleep, no nightmares of missions gone wrong or his parents' death haunting him.

* * *

 _-so... that kinda established the whole AU thing goin' on. how was it? good? bad? idk, i have a migraine again... :( sorry for any typos :(_

 _i updated early! i got the chapter done, and since next week i have plans (lots of plans- i think i'm a little too ambitious) i figured i'd post it._

 _some of you are probably thinking Bruce should notice what's up with Richard by now… but the main reason why he's not noticing will come later (quite a bit later… sorry) on in the story._

 _i posted a new story today, a oneshot called All I Need. it's an Avengers fanfic... this is my first time writing anything involving the self-absorbed Tony Stark, so... i'd really like to know how i did. if you have a chance (or care), please take a look and let me know if it sucked or not._

 _thanks, Sairey13, Guest, Guest of honor, Tayashia, 3DPhantom, Kira Sema, GhostLucy, My Golden Wings, and Angelcat8 for the reviews! :)_


	7. There's No Sense

_-the last chapter... yikes. um, so Wally and Artemis are a thing, the mind link with M'gann and the team is causing Dick to get headaches, and more strange stuff is happening, this time at the Manor.  
_

 _and... GO!_

* * *

 **(October 22nd, 7:50 AM - Gotham Academy)**

"Have a good day, Master Richard."

Dick smiled slightly at Alfred's good-bye, the classic Rolls-Royce pulling away from the curb just outside Gotham Academy's intimidating gates. As soon as the car was gone, his smile faded and his eyes filled with dread.

Another half-day spent suffering through school…

Wasn't learning supposed to be enjoyable? …at least somewhat?

As soon as he passed through the gates he adjusted his backpack on his shoulders, the weight of the books only adding to his heavy heart. He was the only kid standing alone, everyone else in groups, chatting away about whatever they-

Brent.

"Crap…" Richard looked down, staring at his dress shoes, noticing a few scuffs tainting the edges. "Please don't see me, please don't see me, please -whoever's listening- don't let Brent see-"

"Oh look who's on time like always. The goody-two shoes charity case."

Dick was sure no one was listening to him; if anyone was, they would've made it clear a long time ago. He remained silent, his lips drawn into a miserable line as he tried to talk past, only to get shoved backwards and out of the academy's gates. Brent smirked. "We aren't on school property now, circus freak," he sneered, not wasting any time before pulling his arm back and landing an impressive punch to Dick's jaw.

Richard fell backwards, tumbling to the pavement. A tiny hole made its presence known in his dark dress pants, scuffs and snags of thread and freckles of dirt dotting his clothes. One of his books in his backpack decided to dig its corner into his thin back as Brent punched him again, this time in the stomach. One of his friends joined in, throwing in a splattering of kicks and punches along with Brent. Richard could hear someone laughing off to the side; a flash of sun peeped through the dense overhang of teary clouds, glaring off a cell phone or two, several students recording the fight.

Well, as another punch wound up digging into his ribs, Richard figured it wasn't much of a fight. Just a beating.

A beating that he deserved for being so weak, so pathetic, so bumbling… and so worthless-

Suddenly he was shoved out of the way, just now realizing his backpack had been torn from his back at some point. He looked up, brushing his slightly too long ebony hair from his eyes as he looked on to see someone else taking Brent's brute force just as silently as he had been. Who… who was dumb enough to do that for him? He was a nobody, a nobody who didn't deserve help but every punch until his body bled and he bruised and broke away into dust.

Brent cursed loudly. Motioned for his buddies who'd ganged up with him to stop and grabbed the hooded figure. He hauled them to their feet and he screamed in their face, "Why'd you get in my way?! He's just scum."

The person's hood covered their face so well that all that was seen was a dark shadow. They crossed their arms, a trickle of blood weaving its way down their bruised knuckles, sight sending a pang of guilt through poor Richard's glass-shattered soul. "The only scum around here is standing right in front of me," they said in a low, menacing tone. No one knew if it was a boy or girl, given their build was buried under baggy clothes.

"Excuse me?" Brent stepped forward, right in their face. "Look at yourself in the mirror lately, filth?"

The crowd laughed, Richard shrugging his backpack back over his abused back and shoulders as the person just said, "Hope you still have the guts to look your Maker in the eye with that cocky attitude, hotshot. I hear there's a special place in eternity for people who act like you. And just a hint: you don't get a halo and twinkly wings there."

With that, the person silently left, several in the crowd "oh"-ing at the comeback as Brent cursed again and yelled, "Shut up!" he turned to Dick and got in his face. "I don't know how-" yikes, did this doofus not know what a toothbrush and toothpaste were?! "-you got that idiot to save your sorry hide, but it won't happen again. Or I'll send you packing to see your dearly departed mommy and daddy early. Or better yet, I'll drag your sorry hide and your little friend with me to the gates of ever-loving h-"

RIIIING. "Good morning, students," one of the secretaries announced. "Class starts in five minutes-"

Brent glared daggers at Dick. "This isn't over, Grayson."

Everyone filed through the gates as Richard stared out at the street, a man across the street lowering his iPhone as the students left. He looked up at Richard blankly and left.

Even random strangers were recording the beating…

Richard slumped his way to his locker, an envelope taped to his locker. He pulled it off, tension racing in his blood as his shaking fingers betrayed him so he couldn't open it. Instead, knowing he'd be late if he didn't hurry, he miraculously got his trembling fingers to open the lock, grabbed his books in haste, and bolted, slipping into class just before the bell tolled. He snuck into his seat toward the back and opened the envelope. What cruel taunt was tucked inside? What was their now?

A simple blue paper was tucked inside, ripped from someone's trampled (if the bits of dirty shoe tread across it were anything to go by) chemistry study guide from a year ago. He unfolded the creased paper to see in the same print as the note in his mathbook from before. It read, in slightly sloppy print, "Just hang on. You're stronger than you think. Please… don't give up."

Until he read the note, Dick's mind was scrambled with thoughts of simply wiping his pathetic existence from the earth, saving Brent from doing the job. He was ready to just give up, his arms blazing under his shirt, which now had a tear in it.

But now…

the note caused the thoughts of self-destruction to freeze in place and Dick sighed, folding the note and envelope away. Whoever this was wanted him to live. He wasn't sure why they cared, but they did.

So for their sake instead of his selfish own…

he'd hang on.

But he wasn't sure for how long he'd have a hold on life, as his fingers were slowly slipping from the edge, leaving him to fall into the dark void of death.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(October 22nd, 7:49 PM - Wayne Manor)**

Dick sat in his room that night, itching to grab his blade, but…

He didn't have the strength.

He'd been kicked out.

Not out of Gotham Academy… though some days that didn't sound so bad.

Richard Grayson had been kicked off the mathlete team and replaced with a Chinese genius whose family had packed up and carted over the Pacific to dark and dreary Gotham.

All because he'd missed two meets. Two blasted meets. Two meets that he'd missed because… well…

because he'd gotten grounded.

Again.

Well, one was because he was grounded after the whole nightmare with training.

The other was because Bruce refused to take him

That was the weird thing… Bruce had just said he was busy and since Alfred was getting groceries that night, Bruce was the designated driver who was fuming over a pile of paperwork that matched Mt. Everest in height and…

who was also inebriated.

Dick sighed, looking out at the surrounding dark skies and shadowy room. "Guess this is just destined to be my life… nothing but train wreck after train wreck."

* * *

 _-another early update... sorry for any typos; i just needed something to get my mind off of things. today's been an okay day... tonight, not so much._

 _(is it okay if i vent a little? sorry :( you can just skip this if you want...)_  
 _i just... idk what i'm even feeling right now. i just feel so tired and worn out from trying to keep up with everyone else and my health... and then i figured i'd write to take my mind off it all, work on an Avengers oneshot a week ago... yeah, that went well. i was hoping for some feedback in case i DID decide to write a full story, but that failed. everything i do anymore, everything i stinking touch... it just falls to bits. so why even get my hopes up?_

 _sorry :( i'm just exhausted. i'll be fine tomorrow; that's always how it goes. new day, new outlook... somehow it works._

 _thanks, WildChild13, Guest(s?), Tayashia, Minikat006, Sairey13, and Angelcat8 for the reviews :)_


	8. In Wasting Time

_-hi, guys! okay, definitely doing a lot better than i was the last time i posted. so… lots of guesses as to who is causing all these strange events to occur._

 _now…_

 _it's time to see if you were right._

 _this chapter is the big reveal! and after last chapter's fight and Richard losing his place as a mathlete (which Bruce doesn't really care about… or know), this story definitely needs something positive thrown in. of course, this chapter is still pretty dark (see the warning), and, well, i won't spoil it, but this chapter is super important!_

 _and, to address one review… i know Dick might be a little out of character; i'm trying to stay as close to his personality as i can, but with Bruce basically ignoring him, and everything just going wrong for him… i'm sorry if he's not quite the same._

 _so… here's the new chapter! :)_

 _(possibly triggering- self harm: mentioned and described briefly, and suicide is talked about for a while)_

* * *

 **(October 24th, 10:27 AM - Gotham Academy)**

Worthless.

Stupid.

Clumsy.

Annoyance.

Waste of space.

Burden.

Idiot.

Worthl-

Dick sighed, not even paying attention to the lesson at hand. Math seemed pointless; Bruce wasn't even aware he'd been booted from the athletes; only Alfred was, and he was concerned before Bruce called him away to the Batcave for something or other.

He scratched out the word he'd been writing, realizing he'd written it twice. Richard bit his lip at his own forgetfulness and jotted down a slew of more words.

Incompetent.

Alone.

Imperfect.

Imbecile.

Lousy.

Pathetic excuse for a human being.

Dick looked over the words so far and tapped his pencil on his lip, thankful it was a free period; Mr. Charles was doing a few review problems on the side for some students. Dick didn't need those; instead, he was pretending to, well, do something school related, but his clouded mind couldn't make sense of his surroundings long enough to keep up with the rest of the world.

He wrote more names for himself as he thought of them, his pencil a blur of hastily written letters on the blue lined paper of his math notebook, each word darker and heavier than the last.

Failure.

Lost.

Numb.

Cold inside.

Waste of space, resources, and everyone's time.

Better off dea-

The pencil was snatched from his hand and Richard jumped, his grey eyes losing their spark. Despite the note, he couldn't hold on. He searched for his pencil. Looked right. Looked left.

No one was looking in his direction. Good.

He turned and and gasped quietly, seeing the pencil race through the words on the page, crossing them all out. He grabbed back the pencil, glaring at the disaster brought to his list, and started rewriting.

Worthless.

Stupid.

Clumsy.

Annoya-

The pencil was torn from his hand again and this time flipped so the pink eraser kissed the paper. Slowly, "annoyance" was erased and replaced with…

Amazing.

What? No, he was not amazing. He was about as far from amazing as anyone could get.

Another word was erased, replaced with "talented."

Smart.

Special.

Important.

Dick grabbed the pencil tensing as his hand met another hand… that he couldn't see. He looked up and glared. "Look, whoever you are," he hissed in a whisper. "You don't know anything about me. Why do you even care?!"

The hand moved from his grasp slowly; Dick didn't try to stop it. His tired eyes watched as the notebook was quickly flipped so the writing was upside down and seconds later was turned back to its original position.

Who do you think left those notes?

Richard's eyes went wide and he quickly grabbed the floating pencil before anyone could notice. He sighed, looking down at his desktop. "Why… do you care? You're wasting your time."

"I am not."

He jumped, almost screaming. Someone talked. To him.

Oh great…

"I'm hearing things now!" Dick mumbled, chuckling quietly. "I knew it! I've lost my mind."

"No, you have not. Richard, let me help you."

He glared once more in front of him. "Who are you? My imagination?" he scoffed.

"Not in the least. I will meet you later. And I promise you, Richard John Grayson… I will help you."

He shook his head and muttered darkly, "There's no helping me. Can't you see that?"

There was no reply and Richard just sighed. His internal clock was winding down to the last few hours.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(October 24th, 4:15 PM - Wayne Manor)**

Bruce was at yet another company meeting.

Alfred was with him.

And that left Dick alone.

Richard sat quietly in the living room, finishing his math homework. He just had to finish this last horror story of an equation and-

"Hey."

"De-YAH!" Richard jumped, notebook and textbook flying from his lap. "What... in the world? Who's there?"

Suddenly his books were lifted from the floor, the notebook closed and laid on top of the math book. "Sorry for startling you."

"Who even are you? WHERE are you?"

"Oops. Forgot about that…"

Two feet away, a faded and threadbare shirt, jacket, and jeans materialized into existence. Pale skin followed, and a worn out backpack accompanied the figure whose face was masked by their hood. "Here…" they threw off the hood, revealing a pale face smudged with red cheeks and scrapes of dirt. A bruise highlighted the side of their face, and their vibrant blue eyes stared directly at Richard's as their curly black mop of hair tumbled down in a ponytail past their shoulders. "That better?"

"You… you can turn invisible… how-"

"Long story." Dick noticed the girl shivered at the thought. She looked about nineteen. "Let's just say I'm… I'm not easily noticed."

Dick crossed his arms as he stood up from the luxurious couch. "Well, that settles where you are. But who are you?"

"Winter Frost."

Richard deadpanned. "Really?"

"I'm not kidding," she insisted, dropping her backpack lightly on the floor after checking to make sure she wouldn't leave any dirt on the immaculate hard wood floor or fluffy rug under her feet; it looked like she'd cleaned off her sneakers as best she could before tracking into the place. "If I leave any dirt behind I'll clean it up. Look, I know this is crazy-"

"-or incredibly trippy and insane-"

"and you don't believe me whatsoever. But I know you need help."

Dick scoffed. "I don't need your stinking help. I'm fine."

"You're considering suicide, Richard," she snapped, her harsh tone surprising him. "That is far from fine."

Dick finally just snapped. All strung together days of nothing but pain and neglect caught up with him and he shouted, "So what? No one else cares about me one bit! I'm just… I'm just a mistake!"

"You. Are. Not," Winter replied evenly, stepping closer to him. "You have come through so much. Why give in now?"

"Like you know thing one about me, "Dick spat tiredly.

Winter shrugged. "I know plenty about you… Robin."

Richard looked up in horror. "H-how-"

"Who do you think has been following you around to make sure you don't do anything stupid?"

"You know… oh great, so you know-"

"Bruce is Batman. Quite honestly, it's a little obvious, with all the gadgets and whatnot." The girl acted like this was entirely a casual conversation.

Dick grabbed his head as he fell back on the couch. "Bruce is gonna kill me… I messed up… I messed up-"

"Richard, stop it. You didn't do anything."

The girl's gentle voice didn't help. "Yes I did! I-I slipped up-"

"No. I'd figured out Bruce Wayne was Batman long before I showed up here."

Wait… didn't that mean- "You're the one in my room at night?"

"What? Gotham gets cold," she shrugged once more, eyes blazing with concern and what Dick was denying was the possible start of a friendship. "And you needed the help."

"Help?" Richard curled his knees up to his chin on the couch, his eyes dull and distant. "I'm beyond help. My parents were murdered, my guardian is never around, my only friend outside of school ditched me, and I keep screwing up stuff with the League-" he cut himself off by jamming his fist to his mouth. "Oh God… I… they're all gonna kill me now."

"Dude, I could've easily pieced together that you're involved with the Justice League. If you're living with Batman, you definitely are."

"How DID you figure it out?"

Winter looked down slightly, something in her eyes growing colder than her name. "I had a lot of time on my hands to… observe. Plus, after I had my hunch I saw the Dark Knight pull his cowl off as he got into the Batmobile, which wasn't that smart."

Dick didn't relax any at finding out it was Bruce's own fault. "You tell anyone?"

"Not a soul."

He swallowed hard, his throat dry as his new acquaintance crossed her arms. "Enough of trying to get me off topic. I'm here because you obviously need someone to talk to. What in the world caused you to fall like this?"

"Fall?" Richard shook his head. "I fell with my parents when they died. I just didn't hit the ground till now." Blinked back his tears and swallowed again, fighting to breathe as he felt himself standing up on the platform, his parents falling to their death. "I just messed up. I'm not sure when or how, but I did." He glared up halfheartedly at the girl, who didn't offer any pity in her gaze. "I don't know why I'm telling you."

"Because you've gone for too long without anyone's help."

Richard shook his head. "A-Alfred's tried… I just don't want him confronting Bruce about it and… and him getting more upset with me than he already is."

Winter frowned tightly as he reached up, releasing his arms from his legs briefly to massage his aching temples. His sweatshirt slipped down and revealed what she knew was there. He looked up and surprisingly couldn't find it in him to look horrified that she knew. "You can't keep doing this to yourself, Richard."

"You're right. And I won't." His declaration was shaky, but final: "I'll just end it all."

"No! That's not-"

"What? It's not right? It's selfish?! I'd finally be with my parents! I'd be away from school. I'd be away from the team and… and away from Bruce. Trust me, no one would miss me."

Winter just looked at him, then down at the floor as she sat down beside the huddled boy. "What would your parents think?"

He did a double take. "What?"

"What would your parents think if you did end it?"

Dick shrugged. "I don't know."

"I do. They'd be sad. Heartbroken."

"You never met them."

"You're right… I didn't." She sighed. "But my parents were there that night."

"…where?"

She looked up at him silently and Dick's breath hitched. "They… they were?"

Winter nodded. "They were on vacation and decided to come see the show. My uncle -he came with- took me out of the tent to get cotton candy, and I never saw your act. All I saw was my parents rush out in tears and I heard the screams from inside. I'm so sorry."

Richard looked up at her. "You were there?"

"Outside. Technically, only my parents saw. My aunt stayed at the hotel with my brothers and sister. I… they didn't tell me anything except there was an accident. But I found out the next morning when the hotel slipped the newspaper under our door."

Dick's severe gaze lessened a little. "You… you actually care? About a screw-up like me?"

"Yes I care. And no, you are not a screw-up."

"Yes I am."

"Well, I'll just keep telling you that you are absolutely not one until you believe it."

He shook his head and laughed bitterly. He'd finally found what he wanted, someone who at least appeared to care about him, who was willing to listen… and he'd started this whole thing off on the wrong foot. No, forget that. He'd kicked his first impression all the way to the fiery gates of Hades… and they were still willing to help. "Um… look, about the last ten minutes…"

"It's okay," Winter cut in, smiling. "I didn't expect you to take it well."

Richard looked her up and down. "You wanna follow me?"

"Sure." She got up, bringing her bag with her as he led her to Bruce's study. She smirked. "Dude, the clock in here is waaay off."

"Intentional." He threw a lame smirk back and before she could blink it moved to reveal the secret passage down to the Batcave.

Winter nodded. "I'm impressed. A bit cliche, but still impressed."

He led her down to the Batcave and settled in behind Bruce's computer. Winter immediately knew what he was doing and decided to call him out on it. "Background check, huh?"

Dick tensed. "Yeah…" he answered sheepishly. "I-"

"I get it. Go ahead. Just warning you, it's not pretty."

What? "Um… what's your last name again?"

"Frost."

Again, what? "Really? How in the world-"

"Shut up and type it in the computer, Boy Wonder."

As Dick did so, he wondered just how much hassle Winter got for her name, if it was even her real name. Within seconds he had results and yes, that was the name slapped across her birth certificate-

and he saw what she meant.

"You…" oh boy. "You worked for Cadmus. As a report analyst?"

Winter nodded, not saying a word as her files were hacked into by the thirteen year old. Seeing as she wasn't talking, he continued. "You graduated third in your class-" that was pretty good "-and…" Dick stopped. "I'm sorry, but Cadmus?"

"Yeah…" She sighed heavily, and Richard saw her shoulders slump. "That's the 'long story' I mentioned earlier."

"Want to share, considering you apparently know my life story?"

Winter bit her lip, her blue eyes flashing with pain, and Richard backtracked. "We can wait and talk about that some other time…" another file flashed open and he gasped.

"Winter… what's this?"

She remained silent and averted her gaze as he stared at the computer's copy of her death certificate, dated July third.

* * *

 _-sorry, just had to cut in here… ;)_

 _anyone see that coming? i've been working on this story idea and Winter's character for about a year now, trying to get everything to click together. anybody mad it wasn't someone from the show?_

 _and the date on the death certificate is super important. any guesses why before i continue with the chapter?_

 _anyways, here's the rest of it:_

* * *

Winter sat down heavily on the floor, her eyes slightly glazed. "Um… guess I kinda have to tell you now instead of later."

"Tell me what?"

She shook her head. "How does the file say I died?"

Richard was quiet for a minute as he noticed a newspaper article came up as an attachment to his search of her name. He clicked it and his blue eyes went wide. "It says you died when a Cadmus lab near your hometown exploded due to a chemical mishap…"

He trailed off as she refused to look up. "That's not the truth, is it?"

"It's part of the truth," she replied slowly. "When you mix explosives with fire it kinda sorta has a bad reaction for anyone in range."

"Explosives?" Dick mumbled, quickly breezing over the article. That wasn't mentioned at all, just that there was an accident with two volatile chemicals in an experiment late that night. "Winter…" his mouth was dry, and his mind shouted not to go down this road, but he had to know, "what happened to you?" What he wanted to shout was why in the world could she morph like a chameleon, disappearing entirely.

She looked up, her eyes wet. "I'd been with Cadmus only about a month. They wanted me to just take notes on experiments, and I figured it'd look good on a college application to have been a lab assistant. I got some pay out of it, and I wanted to learn more, considering science isn't my strong point by any means. It was just a lot of note-taking and sketching and double-checking the results of experiments."

Richard nodded slowly and she continued, still holding his gaze albeit tiredly. "I started noticing something wasn't right. There were too many secrets, too much red tape. At first I just wrote it off as being new and unauthorized, but… it wasn't adding up. So… I hacked into the files with one of their own gadgets under another employee's name, one with far higher clearance, and… well," she bit her lip. "You've heard of Project Kr?"

Superboy…

Dick scowled. "Yes. He's Superboy now."

Winter's eyes went wide. "He made it out? Oh thank God!"

Wait… "What do YOU know about Project Kr?"

"I stumbled across his file in the system and, well, curiosity killed the cat. I couldn't believe I was working for these people after seeing what they'd done, how many clones they'd attempted to create and instead killed off because they weren't perfect. I found the links to the controls on other League members' DNA and I shut down the stability controls on their cells, causing the life support that maintained the samples to shut down. Then I found all the information on where Superboy was and conveniently noticed Cadmus had the League's contact information. I sent it through to them and then erased my tracks as well as I could."

So she was the one who'd sent the League the files? Richard was shocked. "It doesn't end there though, does it?"

"No, unfortunately." Winter took a shaky breath, trying to mentally prepare herself to continue, her hands trembling violently by now.

Dick noticed and got up from his chair, sitting in front of her. He grabbed her quivering hands and held them still. "Hey," he said softly, glad he'd studied on who to help victims at crime scenes. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me the rest." He felt bad enough for dragging this much out of the eighteen year old (that's what her file read, as her birthday was in late July) already.

He stopped himself for a moment as Winter looked down at her lap, biting her lip hard. He'd only known her, what, not even an hour? And he already had this strong connection to this girl who looked stunningly enough like him to pass as his older sister. She'd been hurt. He'd been hurt. And she was willing to help him.

If she was going to do that, though, then Richard swore right then and there to do the same for her.

"Winter…" he sighed as she slowly looked up, the tears she'd been holding back now surprisingly gone; she looked steeled, like he did far too often in the face of criminals. He smiled slightly. "If this is going to happen -you helping me- then we need something so we can communicate better than you scaring the crap out of me in math class. So not asterous..."

She blushed a little "Sorry about that."

"It's fine." Dick pulled her to her feet and grabbed up her bag, insisting on carrying it. "First things first…" faster than the Flash, he'd hacked into Batman's own systems and erased his searches from the database entirely. He didn't want Bruce finding out about Winter; this was his secret, just another to add to the mix. "Okay, that's done. Now… let's see what tech Bruce has lying around down here…"

* * *

…

* * *

 **(about a half hour later)**

"You stole this from Cadmus?!"

Winter grinned as Richard looked over the device she'd handed him. "What? They blew up their own building and left this lying around. I couldn't not take it… and obviously they didn't need it anymore."

Dick shook his head, grinning back. And it was an actual grin. A genuine smile.

And it made Winter so happy to see.

He quickly checked it over for a tracker, then asked, "So… what's with these two earpieces?"

"Cadmus wanted to create a device that would allow two people to talk mentally; it matches certain brainwave patterns and allows them to talk through the link. There's no damage to the mind, and it's solar-charged. Gets roughly twelve hours in one charge, and it takes four hours to charge."

"What if there's no sun?" Richard pulled away one of Batman's old scanners he hadn't used in ages and pulled out some of the wiring.

"Then it doesn't work. They were on that everybody-go-green kick and then half the new tech didn't work when it was cloudy."

As Richard worked, he started to notice Winter looked exhausted. "You okay?" he inquired, very concerned as she leaned heavily on the table, sitting on a high perched metal stool and looking a little pale.

"Huh?" She looked up, her eyes even a little clouded over. "I'm fine."

Dick scrutinized her for a minute, then ran to a small fridge in the medbay's wall, which was where he'd picked to work on repairing the rest of the device. Cadmus had finished it, but a wire was damaged in the explosion, and he had to fix it before it would function properly. He found a water bottle and shut the door, then found a box of loose granola bars and grabbed two. If Winter was legally dead…

then where was she living?

He reached his new friend and pushed the nourishment to her. "Here."

The tired teenager shook her head. "I… I couldn't-"

"Please. You don't look good."

Winter looked at the granola bars longingly, but instead settled on opening the chilled bottle and taking a small sip. "Thanks."

"No problem," Richard replied. He knew he had to ask eventually, so why not just rip of the bandage- "Winter… where do you live?"

"49th."

That was a slum area. Okay, the majority of Gotham was kinda ghetto-esque, but 49th street was known for heavy violence, its occupants often flying higher than a child's kite. "You… do?"

"Yeah."

"No offense, but I can't see you there."

"It was my only choice. Besides, I'm heading for the north side next week."

That was better. "Why?"

"Um… they're tearing down my place in a few days."

That wasn't an odd thing at all. Wait- "They're tearing down a warehouse that's forty years old and abandoned, but not a housing complex."

"That's… um, where I live."

Dick gasped and looked up, ready to face palm at his stupidity. Winter wasn't looking up, her face an open book that was clear to read. She was scared, accepting that Richard was probably going to throw her out, forget she ever existed, or tell her off for daring to come into Wayne Manor. But couldn't she see he wasn't like that? She really thought he would curse her out and dump her in the cold street. "You're homeless?"

She nodded once, still hanging her head.

"Winter…" he didn't know what to say. "I-"

"I'll leave." She started to stand. "I'm sorry-"

"No. That's not it! I don't mind!" He grabbed her and forced her to sit down, this time on a low grey couch in the corner. "Winter, why didn't you say that?"

She sighed. "I… I didn't want you to think less of me."

"Or she thought I wouldn't let her help me, just because of it," Dick mumbled to himself sadly.

"Have you met me?" Dick knelt down by the couch. "I was born out of the country, English isn't my first language, I'm a gypsy circus freak, and I'm basically a charity case." He snorted. "When were you going to tell me?"

"Not for a while… or ever if I could help it."

He sighed and got up. "You rest. I'll work on the tech."

"Wha if Brsss comes back?" Winter slurred, already half asleep.

Richard grinned. She needed the rest. "Then I'll wake you up. But I doubt he'll be back that soon."

Too late. Glancing at the girl, she was asleep, still sitting up. Dick found a blanket in one of the cabinets and draped it over her; the room was chilly, after all. He worked in silence for another hour, nimble fingers checking and rechecking his work, only to find it flawless.

Now, time for the test.

Reluctantly, he gently shook Winter awake. The tired girl didn't budge at first, and Richard shook a little harder-

and instantly felt regret.

Winter whimpered and twisted under his hand, the blanket slipping to the floor as she whispered, "Please… no… no-"

"Winter, it's me," Dick said softly, trying to cut into her dream and wake her up.

It didn't work, as she thrashed again, continuing to mumble and protest in her nightmare daze. "Winter! It's me! Please!" Dick pleaded, rewarded at last when Winter's blue eyes shot open.

He gasped, noticing just how similar his eyes were to her's for the first time. She really could pass as his older sister… that was how similar they were; it was scary.

Dick shrugged off the nightmare issue and helped her up. "Okay… think I'm finished."

"Great. How long was I out?"

"Uh, not long…" Dick felt guilty about that as he handed her one of the earpieces. Winter slipped it over her right ear, and he slipped his over his left. The devices were miniscule, little slivers of metal that were practically invisible unless one stood quite close. "Okay… Let's test this."

Both pushed the little indented button on their respective machine, barely pressing a fingertip to it. A soft tone dulled out, fading away, and both felt dizzy for a moment as the machines calibrated, finding matching brainwaves between the two. Very soon, both felt fine.

"Okay…" Winter took a deep breath and tried it first. _Can you hear me?_

Richard jumped. **_Uh, yeah. Woah… this is weird!_**

Winter snickered. _I expected you to say "asterous" or something like that…_

 ** _Well, it's that too. But this is… just wow. And I have a mind link with M'gann! Her's feels nothing like this!_**

Winter frowned slightly. _What… do you mean?_

 ** _I get headaches half the time after missions or training…_**

He did? _And it never occurred to you to say something about it?_

 ** _Um… nope. Just figured it was normal or something._**

Winter sighed and pulled off her earpiece, turning it off. "Okay… that went well!"

"Yep." Dick pulled his off too. "What… are you doing?"

Winter had pulled a tiny metal clip from her jacket and pressed it to the earpiece. "I'm just syncing these together.

"Huh?"

"I have these special clips. And if I want to disguise myself, I have to have the earpiece linked to one."

Special clips? "What do they do?"

Winter stopped her task at hand and lifted her hair from behind her left ear. A tiny metal patch along her hairline could be seen. "This I can actually plug in; Cadmus made this pollution-friendly."

"You stole that too?"

"What? They left perfectly good tech lying around. Be a shame to waste it… and they didn't want it, so…" she shrugged.

"What do those do?"

"Mental link up as well. I modified them a little. They allow me to change more than just my skin tone, and hair and eye color. Clothes don't turn invisible on their own."

So that's how she made herself completely invisible. "So you have a charger for those?"

"Yep."

Woah… "This is a little overwhelming…"

"What? I can make myself invisible!"

"Don't even tell me how yet," Richard joked, trying to keep it all straight. "I think my head might explode."

Winter just smiled. "Well… I better hit the road. Gotta get back."

"You could just stay here?" Dick suggested as they cleaned up and headed back upstairs.

"No. Gotta get all my stuff together before the wrecking ball comes."

Richard sighed. "Okay…"

"I'll see you soon."

Richard's grin returned. "Sounds good. And…" he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "Thanks." Granted he wasn't sure he could be salvaged, but he was going to try…

Winter just nodded as she headed out the door and into the cool night. "No problem, Richard." With that, the door slipped shut and Dick stood there long after.

* * *

- _sorry for any mistakes/typos/errors :( man, that was a lot of writing!_

 _and... this story passed 50 follows AND 50 reviews! thanks so much, guys! :')_

 _thanks, Sairey13, Angelcat8, Guardian of Loyalty, Guest of Honor, 3DPhantom, Elijah Dragneel, My Golden Wings, Emotionless and Soulless, Adrianna Agray, Anonymous, Tayashia, WildChild13, Misskinny, passion4christ, and MiyuIsihami for reviewing! :) (phew, that's a lot of names!)_


	9. Everybody Makes Mistakes

_\- so Winter's existence was definitely met with a mixed response... i expected that. and there's a reason why Dick's friend can't be from the show. (it'll make sense later.) this chapter, she doesn't show up personally, so any Winter-haters can rejoice. sorry for anyone who likes her; she'll be back!_

 _last chapter... um, well, as established above, we met Winter, and... yeah, that's about it._

 _(warning: self harm mentioned and described)_

* * *

 **(November 5th, 5:35 PM - Mount Justice)**

Thirteen days since meeting Winter.

And this was the worst day of them all.

For once he couldn't place the catalyst of his daily misfortune as school; it was a chilly Saturday. And he couldn't pin the blame on Bruce either.

He could only blame himself.

He'd gone twelve days. Twelve whole days without slicing his wrists open to relieve the pain; he hadn't had much of any with Winter around.

But the team was ignoring him…

His ideas, which would've worked flawlessly to pull off their mission, were promptly ignored, falling on deaf ears as the team talked right over him, forgetting he was a living being as well. And then when the mission failed, the blame fell on him for messing up at his post. Or leaving his post against Aqualad's orders.

Well, the League believed the mission was a failure.

And the team did as well, but expressed it with more colorful language.

But in reality, it wasn't.

The objective was to obtain a device from a black market dealer. But no one had found the device, and since from Robin's post he could see the blasted thing…

he grabbed it.

And promptly destroyed it.

Richard discovered the device contained a dangerous element, one that when his scans showed it couldn't be exposed to certain elements (like releasing it from its intricate container for the League's examination would result in an exploding Watch Tower). He ran it from the building as the team briefing earlier said the chemical inside was currently unstable after being stolen from a government lab.

And he threw it into a small lake.

The only thing the chemical could do was explode, and no sooner did it hit the water than the whole area was doused in a mist as it imploded, drenching Robin as he raced back to his post, blaming the mission's failure on leaving his post to follow a goon who he thought could lead him to the device.

So…

Now, in the present, a tired and chewed out Robin was in his room in Mount Justice. The naked sterile walls stared down at him. He swore the screams of his angered teammates (or silence, if Connor was included) were echoing off the walls as he sat on his bed, still in his suit, too worn out to change.

First his team screamed their heads off at him.

Then several League members told him off.

And then Batman just glared, saying he was grounded again.

Everyone was pushing him away.

Robin?

Dick shook his head, took a deep breath, and tried using the tactic Winter had taught him to close off the mind link with minimal pain.

 _Robin, please come out. Aqualad wants to talk to you about the mission._

No. He wasn't leaving his room. And no one was getting in; he'd hacked the controls to the door and locked it shut. "Calm… calm…" he closed his eyes and took one more deep breath, focusing on Winter's voice as he remembered her saying, "Just think about something else, anything else. Focus on that, preferably something good. And it should shut down the link. If it doesn't, you know how to find me."

 _Rob-_

M'gann's voice faded and Robin sighed in relief.

But back to what was said earlier. Today started off early, with a nightmare, the taunting voice, and scrambling from his bed in time to throw up the little food in his stomach from last night. Dinner with Alfred was okay. They talked, and it was definitely nice to be around the older man who showed nothing but concern as he eyed Richard's thinner frame. The pasta tasted horrible as it burbled up his throat and Richard gagged for a half hour, retching and struggling to catch his breath as the world spun. He wasn't sick; it was just the nightmare causing all heck to break lose for him.

Worthless…

and then he fumbled in a haze for one thing.

His blade.

Six slashes later, and Richard was huddled on the bathroom floor, pressing an already red washcloth to his new wounds, staying in a snail shell position for well over an hour, not crying, but gasping for breath. He slowly forced himself to his feet and brushed his teeth, switching out his toothbrush and washing his mouth to get rid of the tongue-eating taste. He leaned on his sink for some time again before cleaning and wrapping his newest decorations, now crying as he barely remembered how they'd wound up there. Richard drug himself back to bed and laid there until morning, trying to remember what caused him to do this.

As he sat on his bed in the mountain, he just looked at the gloves covering his wrists effectively. He was fighting… fighting to figure this out.

Fighting to just survive.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(a week later at Wayne Manor)**

"You never listen anymore!"

"Where do you think I learned that from?!"

Bruce's chest heaved under a pastel dress shirt. "Richard, I don't know what's gotten into you lately, but you're not trying! You're disobedient, you're running your mouth like an idiot, and all you do is screw up whenever you set foot outside this property!" His face was flushed red, but not entirely from anger, and that was why Dick was struggling to not believe his mentor's tearing words because of it.

But in all honesty, he did believe it. He stood there silently as Bruce continued on his rant, grabbing a tie and tying it tightly as he yelled, "Why can't you just do as you're told?! I don't know why I ever brought you into this! And because of your smart mouth tonight, no patrol for ANOTHER week!"

Dick didn't react, which had Bruce doing a partial double take. For a snarky teenager, Richard was uncharacteristically silent. He just nodded and walked from the room, stopping at Bruce's door and whispering, "I'm sorry, Bruce," before trudging to his room and clicking the door shut.

Bruce was right. He was a screw-up. All he'd done was ask if he could go on patrol to help Bruce tonight with a take-down and Bruce lit up like a firecracker, spitting and sputtering every insult he thought of. And Dick's only comeback was to shout that Bruce's stubbornness had rubbed off on him.

But now, a shivering ball pressed against his door, Richard didn't feel stubborn.

He felt pathetic.

Truly pathetic.

He wanted to rush to the welcoming arms of his bathroom, where he'd find his silver and sharp-edged friend.

But he didn't even have the strength for that.

So instead, he waited a while and slowly tried to stand, to just get to his bed-

"Master Dick?"

He jumped, not expecting Alfred's low voice to come through his door. He stood as straight as he could, glad he hadn't been crying; for some reason lately, there were no tears left.

Alfred sighed. "May I come in?"

Dick swallowed, wincing at his dry throat. "Yeah," he croaked, sitting heavily on his bed. It was the only thing he could manage.

Alfred peeked around the door, then stepped into his dark room. "No lights?" He flipped the light switch and moved to sit by Richard's side. "Master Richard, don't pay him any mind. He's not-"

"Himself," Dick finished tiredly, looking up at Alfred. "I know."

"I don't know what's happened to him," Alfred said sadly, gently pressing the young boy to his side in a half hug, which Dick almost stiffened at; he had heard Bruce and Alfred yelling from down in the Batcave. And though he didn't think he'd ever heard Alfred shout a syllable in his life…

here he was.

Alfred's tired eyes locked onto Richard's. The poor kid looked exhausted, dead on his feet. He was wasting away again; for a little bit it seemed the happier version of the boy had returned. Alfred knew Dick was injured by life, greatly hurt by the hand he was dealt.

It seemed everything had come full circle, and the sad child before him was just a shell of what he'd come to know and love over the years.

"Would you like to come downstairs?"

Richard hesitated. Sleep, and risk nightmares, or follow Alfred to the kitchen…

"Yeah." He smiled, falsely, and the butler grinned as he led the boy downstairs.

"Here." Alfred apparently had been baking right after the argument, a a tray of warm chocolate chip cookies came into view. "Master Bruce doesn't have to know."

Dick grinned and started eating away at the mountain of cookies as Alfred pushed a tall glass of milk his way. But as he ate, realizing his was Alfred's way of trying to get him happier (and to gain a pound or two), he thought of Winter. Winter hadn't been by in the last two days, something about looking for lodging. Dick had tried to haul her home with him, but she said it would be better if she didn't stay there with him.

Sadly, and quite reluctantly, Dick had agreed. He knew Alfred wouldn't mind a guest, but Bruce… that was another matter.

He watched until Alfred turned his back and stuffed a handful of cookies in to his warm sweatshirt pocket, careful not to crumble them as he reached for more.

Winter would hopefully be back tomorrow…

He was surprised after his week old relapse to find Winter wasn't mad at him. Instead, she was concerned and just sat with him, talking about anything he wanted to; somehow, the rambling had helped immensely, and Richard's mind was distracted from beating itself up.

She was a good friend, despite only being in his life a handful of days.

But Richard wasn't sure if he could hold on, even for her, the one who let him get everything off his far too small chest and overwhelmed mind.

He was just so tired of trying...

* * *

 _-sorry for any mistakes of typos :(_

 _annnnd... i have a question for you all: how do YOU want this story to end? i'm just curious as to where you guys see it going (i already know where it's going; i have the whole thing laid out in a document so it all works together, but i'd like to know your opinions.)_

 _i'm sorry, but i won't be able to update this story until the third week of September. school starts this week, i have family events coming up, and i have other projects that i've been trying desperately to finish. so... i'm sorry :(_

 _thanks, Guest, Angelcat8, Adrianna Agray, Sairey13, Elijah Dragneel, and 3DPhantom for the reviews! :) God bless!_


	10. Nobody's Too Far Away

_-i'm alive! sorry about the wait...still incredibly busy, but i figured you all waited long enough! (sorry for not getting to proof this as well as i'd like... :( )  
_

 _last chapter, we had a "failed" mission and Dick got grounded. good times, good times..._

 _now... here's the new chapter!_

* * *

 **(November 15th, 9:08 PM - Unremarkable location that the author didn't bother to name)**

Simple mission.

That's all it was.

Go and scout out a building in the middle of nowhere.

Get pictures and intel.

Report back to the League so they can make the bust.

And it had been a simple mission.

Or so everyone had thought.

The six teens had stooped in their positions, armed with binoculars, scanners, trackers, cameras, and recording devices. Kid Flash quickly planted bugs around the premises. Superboy managed to leap somewhat softly (just a dull thud and a puff of dry dirt stirring around him) over the barbed wire fence and get close up shots. Artemis stood to the side with binoculars in one hand, her bow ready in the other in case they were found out. M'Gann flew over a few times with a camera, both invisible. Aqualad hid with Artemis, scanning for anyone nearby.

And Robin…

Robin had a camera roughly slapped into his gloves hands and was ordered to watch the back of the place. The ramshackle ranch was leaning and tilted, and Robin just snapped away, trying to focus. He wasn't going to mess this up. He wasn't! The looks his team gave him were not ones of friendship, or even tolerance. They were just…

just angry.

So he wasn't going to screw up.

Not this time.

As he snapped one more shot, M'gann's voice echoed in his head, causing a dull throb. He winced and stood from his kneeling position in the bush around the property, dusting himself off and moving to head for the Bioship-

only to meet with a branch.

The force he met it with caused him to fall, rubbing his head where it had smacked. Looking up, slightly confused, Robin's eyes went wide.

The branch was really thick.

And it wasn't a branch.

It was an arm as thick as his head.

He tried to stand, or scramble backwards- anything to get away. But his ankles were grabbed and he was thrown sideways, hitting the ground hard some ten feet away and rolling over into a sharp rock. He just groaned as the world spun in his vision, attempting to stand, when a voice sounded right over him. "Little boy blunder… how nice of you to spy on us."

And then a foot met the side of his head and he fell to the ground, out cold.

The person the arm belonged to turned away from the unconscious kid and pulled out a walkie-talkie from his pocket that looked as battered as the hero at his feet. "North two, this is south one. Caught a brat snooping around my zone. Whatcha want done with 'im?"

"Bring him to the base and we'll take it from there. North two out."

Another man, just as burly and beefy, rushed up, a tad winded. "Who's-" he gasped. "Bat's kid?! What's he doin' out here? This ain't Gotham!"

"Don't know. Don't care. But he was watching the place." He grabbed the limp body and threw Robin over his shoulder. "Gotta get him back to the base," his country accent slurred out heavier. "You take over patrol."

"Got it." His partner on watch duty headed in the other direction, beginning to pace the perimeter of the south side with a semi-automatic plastered to his hands.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(An hour later, inside the ranch)**

"Ah!" Robin was jolted back to the world of the waking with a sharp kick to his head. He tried to reach up to his face to block any other attacks, but his hands were bound behind his back with heavy coils of rope; his feet were secured the same way, looped off around a stake in the cracked tile floor. He gasped for a second, coughing at the dusty floor, then took notice of a pair of steel-toed boots.

Oh great. Concussion likely…

"So not whelmed right now," he mumbled looking up into the eyes of-

a mask.

"Heh, you're awake. Too bad… another kick woulda been fun." The ski masked mountain knelt down by him. He looked him up and down. "You guys sure this is Batman's brat? Looks awful tiny to me!"

A few harsh laughs broke out and the man above him joined in. Due to the pain in his head, Richard couldn't look to see how many other lovely friends he'd managed to make while unconscious. He glared up at the man as he continued, "He looks like a stinkin' twig!"

More laughs came as a syringe came into view. The man didn't say a word, just continued with his loud guffaws as he stabbed it into Richard's arm where the space was between sleeve and glove. "There… that'll take care-a you, brat." He threw the syringe to the floor and stomped off, Robin's vision swimming before everything went black once more.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(Same time, at Wayne Manor)**

Bruce sat up in his study, looking over reports and downing cup after cup of coffee, just tainted with a splash of whiskey.

Actually, if Bruce were telling the truth, the so-called splash of whiskey made up the majority of each cup. His red face gave that away as he shook his head at the reports from the teens.

They'd done well, actually. He stacked them up, ready to hand them off at the Watchtower. He headed for the Batcave, reports in hand, as he headed for the zeta tube.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, something caused him to trip. Bruce fell to the hard ground, the papers and files flying from his hands as he caught himself, glaring at the object-

Dick's skateboard.

Bruce grabbed it up as he stood, cursing under his breath. "Can't even put his own stuff away," he muttered, throwing the board into the wall, where it cracked and landed in two pieces, one wheel rolling away.

But Bruce didn't care about the damage he'd done. Instead, he gathered the reports and sorted through them to make sure he had them all.

Aqualad.

Superboy.

M'gann.

Artemis.

Kid Flash.

He nodded to himself. All five were there. All f-

Five?

"There should be six…" Bruce went through them again, blue eyes narrowing as he realized that there should indeed be six files.

One was missing.

He glanced back to where he'd fallen.

Nothing.

Bruce set the papers on a metal table nearby and booked up the stairs, searching his office. Maybe he'd misplaced it? It was Robin's report, though, so maybe Dick had it with him instead of handing it in.

He rushed to the boy's room. "Richard?" he called out, not hearing how cold his voice sounded.

No reply.

"Richard! Answer me!"

Still nothing except a door staring him down.

Bruce sighed in exasperation and impatience and thrust the door open. He stormed inside.

Empty, neatly made bed.

Computer closed on the desk.

Bathroom door shut.

Wait, maybe he was in there!

Bruce ran to the door and opened that with a bang, causing it to slam into the wall. He didn't care, now noticing Richard wasn't there either.

Where was he?

Alfred was out of town for the next two days, so he wasn't around to help. Bruce bolted from the room and searched the manor quickly.

Nothing.

Richard was gone.

He rushed back to his study and back to the Batcave, hurriedly accessing the security footage from just a half hour before…

He watched the Bioship land, the team hand Black Canary their reports, and then they left to either go home or to their rooms.

And Robin wasn't with them.

Bruce slammed his fist off the keyboard and cursed again.

If Richard wasn't with them when they landed…

then where was he?

* * *

…

* * *

 **(November 16th, 12:04 AM - Random alley in Gotham)**

Winter huddled tighter in a ball, pulling her shabby coat around her. The wind was so cold.

And if this was only November…

She shook her head, trying to think about something else. She sighed, tired, alone, and quite hungry. It'd been two days since she'd seen Richard. They talked briefly the day before, but not a peep from him today.

Winter was worried about him now, and finally figured she needed to talk to him. She pressed her earpiece in place, operating it with a meager charge as the clouds blotted out the sun. ** _Richard? Are you there?_**

No answer.

She tried again. Of course, he could have his earpiece off, or at home for all she knew. **_Richard! Please… are you okay?_**

Silence.

She sighed and turned the device off, closing her eyes and saying her hundredth prayer that night alone for her friend. Something just wasn't sitting right with her… he always answered, and usually, he was the one to strike up conversation…

Winter's eyes shot open. She quickly covered her backpack in the alley, stopping only to remove the pocketknife inside and her clips, which thankfully she'd been able to charge. All the clips fit together like a jigsaw puzzle, in the end shaping something similar to the block of an iPhone case. Just insert the plug to the main chip in the group, and all charged at once. She slipped them onto her clothes quickly and raced from the alley, knowing no one would venture down it.

After all, who possibly slept right outside Wayne Tech?

A few minutes later, and Winter was at the telephone booth she'd seen Dick use to get to, well, wherever he went. She stepped inside and closed the door quickly, a flash of light surrounding her and then-

she was…

somewhere.

Winter brought down her arms from her face as she had tried to block the blinding light and looked around.

This was the mountain!

She was glad in her scared reaction to the transport that she'd changed to invisible to match the room, constantly morphing the natural colors of her clothes to blend in; she kept her footsteps quiet, heading for a hallway with lots of doors.

All she had to do was find a computer… that's all-

"Recognized: Batman-"

Crap.

The computer apparently greeted or announced whoever came through its transport.

So… why didn't it say her name, or toll the bell of alarm at an intruder?

Looking down at herself, Winter figured that changing her appearance must lead to a change in her DNA, enough to throw the system off so it didn't recognize her; it had to be something similar to when a shapeshifter morphed, leaving the tiniest fraction of a second where their molecules were so spread out they were practically nothing but phasing air.

That…

was pretty awesome.

She watched as Batman headed the opposite way and she followed him into a room with a computer-

and several other heroes.

Black Canary, Superman, and Flash…

oh boy.

 _So one has super-speed, one has super-hearing and vision, and the other yells so loud it'll probably vibrate my DNA apart…_ Winter shook her head and stood stone still as Batman announced, "Dick's missing."

Superman just looked up from where he was writing something on his laptop… for _The Daily Planet?!_ Whoa… Winter's eyes went wide as he said, "He is?"

"Yes. He didn't come back with the team."

"How could we have missed that?!" Black Canary was shocked, immediately helping as all four heroes gathered at the computer, looking over the mission details. "The mission was in-"

but Winter already knew for herself.

And… now it was time to bolt.

But she needed something to get there with…

As she raced through the place, Winter's eyes locked on a red motorcycle. Custom, from the look of it. And the key was conveniently left behind in the ignition.

She glanced around, and whispered, "I'm just borrowing this… I'll bring it back…" she released the kickstand and pulled another clip from her pocket, fully aware at how much of her energy it was taking to maintain this much invisibility for so long. And after starving, it was even worse.

But Richard was more important.

She wheeled the bike out to a door, and it slid open quietly. "Huh… weak spot there," she mumbled, getting the bike outside and onto the grass. "I wonder why-"

She turned, and it appeared the door was gone.

Camouflaged into the mountain…

nice.

Winter straddled the bike as soon as she was far enough away from the mountain and pulled her hood up over her face tightly, regretting not looking around for a helmet. She turned the key and it roared to life. "I'm a little rusty at this…"

and she sped off through the grass and onto the nearest highway.

The bike had a GPS, which she was thrilled about, and Winter quickly punched in the location where Robin was last.

Four hours...

Or two hours if she broke every speed limit big time.

Winter shook her head and pulled back on the gas, letting the bike fly down the road. The League was too slow, only running scans of the Mountain in case Richard was inside or nearby.

Which he wasn't, not if Bruce had observed the team's arrival back, and there was no Robin to be seen… she wondered how Batman missed that detail. he looked a little red, though. Maybe it was just anger; she figured Mr. Wayne was bothered by his missing "wayward" ward.

So, while the League was bumbling about...

She was going to pull this off.

Alone.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(November 16th, 2:34 AM - the still unnamed ranch)**

"Robin?" Winter looked around, her body shaking as she had transformed back to invisible. "Robin, where are you?" she called softly.

There was no one outside the house.

There was no one inside the house.

And there was no one on the property.

So either they had to run, figuring the League would be after the Boy Wonder…

or they were disposing of evidence.

Winter hurried about, dashing from room to room. She couldn't find him anywhere! Maybe they'd hauled Richard off with them-

A groan.

There was only one room left. The kitchen. Winter skidded onto the scummy tile floor, stopping just short of the trussed up figure. "Robin!" she quickly pulled out the knife and quickly grew frustrated as the thick ropes dumbed the knife's blade quickly. "So much for good quality," she muttered. Richard didn't even stir as she unraveled the ropes what felt like hours later. Though she felt terrible after using so much energy on staying disguised, Winter was still bigger than her new friend and she scooped him up into her arms. "Wow…" thankfully her muscle was still there as she looked him over. "Dude, you gotta eat more," she said quietly, starting to stand-

"Hey!"

Still invisible, Winter looked up into the eyes of a tall ski masked man, his hulking frame bursting beneath a too tight black shirt and pair of pants. "What t-"

Winter rushed past him and outside. The man followed originally, but didn't pursue her after her feet left the rotting porch front. Why-"

BOOM!

The house erupted in a ball of fire and smoke, sending Winter flying. She held onto Richard tightly and rolled so when she landed her body took the brunt of the fall. The rocky ground dug through her coat, clawing up her skin and drawing thin rivers of blood. She brushed off the pain and grabbed Robin once more, running as fast as she could as another bomb went off, this one under the porch. This time she didn't fall to the ground from the force of the explosion, and managed to get the bike, just as Richard stirred. "Wha-"

"Shut up and just hold on." Somehow Winter maneuvered him to sit behind her. The groggy teenager managed to hold on tight as she revved up the bike and sped off, shouts echoing in the distance. She sighed in relief once she found the main road again and glanced back at Richard. His head rolled from the effects of the drugs and he asked where he was.

"On a motorcycle."

"How'd you get it?" he slurred, tightening his hold as his head began to pound like a judge's gavel.

"Borrowed it."

"From… from where?"

"The League."

He gasped. "How in the world did-"

"Relax. They didn't even notice I was there. Your greeting system didn't recognize me." She snorted. "It hurt a lot!"

Robin sighed in relief as well. "Okay, good. But you gotta get this bike back…"

"No problem."

After a few minutes of silence, Robin glanced around, thinking. He needed a cover story; something relatively close to the truth.

How about following what happened? Got knocked out. Got drugged. Woke up-

and instead managed to escape himself.

And then, after escaping, was thrown from the house by the explosion just as he was leaving. He was sure that would explain the pounding headache, as only drugs wouldn't cause this much; they never had before!

Winter glanced back at him. "Dude, I'm pulling over."

"Why?"

"I gotta check you over."

"No, I'm f-"

"Say you're 'fine' and I'll drop you like a hot potato."

In his weakened state, Richard didn't doubt her for a second. After a minute, Winter found a place to pull over and helped him off the bike. "Mask off," she said after hiding them and the bike behind a bush.

Richard weakly complied and she tsked under her breath. "Um, you probably have a concussion. Most likely a minor one."

"Asterous."

She didn't reply, just examined the bruises and scrapes. "And you're dehydrated as well. But with the drugs in your system, I don't know if drinking is a good idea."

He just nodded slowly.

"Okay, we gotta go."

"Wait… there's a zeta tube near here… in a town called Littleville."

"Really?"

Robin laughed, but quickly stopped and winced. "Y-yeah. Small place with a huge abandoned junk yard. Search for it on the bike's GPS and we'll head there."

Winter did so as he laid on the grassy ground, which felt wonderful after the filthy rat-tracked tile floor. She looked up as the results loaded. "What are you telling the League?"

"A lie."

"I figured. But what kind of story are you selling?"

Richard relayed what he'd come up with and Winter nodded. "Sounds good. But remember to say that you were so confused and disoriented after the explosion that you don't remember getting to the zeta tube. I'll drop you off outside the junk yard so it doesn't look like a lie to the League."

"It's mostly the truth… 'sides… I'll probably pass out and forget half of this."

Winter grinned, her face twisted in worry. Richard would probably be just fine in a day or two, after the drug ran its course. "Richard, do you feel okay?"

"Dick."

What? "Huh?"

"You can call me Dick," he said feebly, yawning.

Winter nodded slowly, smiling. He was letting her in.

Slowly, but surely…

he just needed time.

* * *

 _-sorry for any mistakes or typos :(_

 _if anyone noticed (thanks for mentioning Wally's birthday was in November, Sairey13), i kinda sorta skipped Wally's birthday. why? um... well, let's just fill in the blank with Dick getting him a small present, trying in some way to see if their friendship was salvagable, and Wally just ignored it._

 _now me skipping that may make some of you sad now, but... let's just say it'll come up again. maybe not in THIS book, but- oh boy, that was a major hint, wasn't it? *Jedi mind wipe* You didn't see that...  
_

 _thanks so much for all the reviews, guys! :) you're awesome! really, it makes me so happy to get your reviews :)_

 _be back soon(ish...)!_


	11. Love Will Leave the 99

_-so..._

 _last chapter: another failed mission (sort of), and nobody noticed Robin kinda sorta wasn't present for the ride home. and then Winter saved the day (we hope!)_

 _here's the aftermath of last chapter:_

* * *

 **(November 16th, 9:10 AM - Mount Justice)**

"But it IS the truth!"

"Oh please, you probably just fell asleep on watch."

Robin shook his head, looking around frantically at his teammates, unwilling to admit how dizzy that made him feel. All five were standing around him, all glaring at him.

Well, except Aqualad, who just stood stonefaced. Superboy was fuming; M'gann looked a little peeved. Artemis just let her disbelief show in her narrowed eyes.

And Wally...

Well, that was just an unfolding trainwreck.

Wally scoffed. "Admit it, the whole thing's a lie. You just got lazy and botched the job. AGAIN."

Richard curled his fists inside his sweatshirt, his glasses just barely hiding the dark circles smudging his eyes. "You think I would lie to you guys?"

Kid Flash stepped right up to him and coldly and boldly returned, "THEY don't even know your real name."

Silence.

Richard sighed and glanced at all of them. "Guess it was too much to expect any of you to believe me... or to notice that I never met up for the ride back." He started to walk away, only to be met by his mentor. The Dark Knight glared down at him and Dick didn't even have to look up as he said, "I know you don't believe me either," and just slumped to the zeta tube, whisked away.

The first thing he did on arriving back at Wayne Manor (he had stopped calling it "home" a month ago, though since he was talking far less than he used to, no one took any notice) was change. Slipped into a grey t-shirt and some loose gym shorts. The shorts and shirt weren't intentionally loose; these just happened to be the smallest clothes Dick had. His usual work-out clothes left enough room for him to swim.

So these were the obvious choice.

But instead of just jumping into an intense work-out, Richard just stared up at the uneven bars, his hands slicked with sweat. He knew he needed to wrap his hands and coat them in chalk, but...

who would actually care if he fell?

Richard was sure at this point if he got injured it'd be doing everyone a favor.

Or he'd just be a temporarily disabled burden, moreso than he already was.

"Wouldn't want anyone to actually care..." he sighed heavily and coated his hands in chalk, the white stuff swirling in the air as he brushed a bit of access off.

"Do I count?"

"Whoa!" Dick jumped. "Winter! Where-"

She appeared in front of him, smirking. "Right here, bright one."

He shook his head and laughed. There was one person who cared about him still, and it was hard, but he was hanging on only for her sake. He frowned suddenly, noticing just how dirty Winter was. She looked more exhausted than ever; she'd lost more weight...

not like she'd had much to lose. She was already a rail.

"Winter... are you okay?"

She nodded, arms crossed. "I'll manage. Always do." That was his line! She looked around. "This place looks cool."

"Yeah. It... it was."

Winter's ears picked up the time tense change and she bit her lip. It "was"... like now it was just... an escape.

And a potentially painful one, if Dick worked himself hard enough.

She shook her head and watched as Richard recoated his hands in chalk. He looked tired, but far better than he had last night.

But he didn't look as exhausted as she felt.

And he noticed.

"Winter, if you want, you can go up and crash in my room. I don't care."

She shook her head again. "No, that's okay. I'll just sit down here." With that, she sank to the floor, laying her bag beside her. "See? Comfy."

Just because the floor was padded in case Richard fell didn't make it comfortable. "No. You. Upstairs. Now."

Winter glared at him, but not in the way everyone else had been just minutes ago. "I like the floor."

"Oh, for the love of..." Richard grabbed her and hauled her to her feet. "No one's home, so you're going up to my room, and you are going to REST."

"Don't wanna rest." Winter looked at him tiredly. "I'm fine."

Dick looked her up and down. If he couldn't get her to rest... "How 'bout you use my shower instead?"

"I-"

"I won't care if you use it. Please..." It wasn't sleeping, which it was clear Winter totally needed, but it was something that would hopefully help Winter feel a little better.

Winter finally relented. "Fine. But I'm so strangling you later." And she headed out the door with a slight limp that Dick never saw before.

He chuckled weakly at what she'd said. "Uh, you're joking right?"

"Sure..."

He gulped. She actually might strangle him.

But it was Winter, so he definitely doubted it.

Upstairs, Winter barely had the energy to make it to Dick's room. She sank to the floor as soon as she did, panting slightly as the room twisted on its head. Maybe she should've taken Richard up on his offer to crash in his bed...

but sleep was the last thing she wanted.

So instead the tired girl dragged herself to the bathroom and clipped the lock shut quietly. She looked in the mirror, something she'd been avoiding for all the months she'd gone without four walls and a roof, and barely recognized the face tilted slightly as it studied her own.

Her dark hair was in a messy ponytail, every midnight black curl slicked with grease; the closest she'd came to a shower was jumping in the park river one night when the cops weren't looking and all the crooks were scared away by the frigid wind and bone-drenching rain.

Her face was pale, under all the layers of dirt and sweat and... apparently blood from a cut she'd gotten while looking through a dumpster. Stupid cheap metal dumpsters with jagged edges on the lid. Winter's face was pinched, her cheeks sunken and her eyes ringed with bruises from a severe lack of sleep-

her eyes.

Winter stared in shock at her eyes; they were once a bright, brilliant light blue.

Now they were a dull, pulsing grey.

Looking at the rest of herself with the half-dead eyes, Winter only saw filthy clothes and tattered shoes that she'd cleaned off before crossing the threshold into the manor. She slowly managed to pull her clothes off, panting as she laid them on the counter and stared at her bony hands. She sighed heavily and slipped into the shower, pulling the almost entirely opaque blue sliding door shut.

Winter drifted in and out of tangible thought as the warm water ran, pooling at her feet in a brown puddle. Her nails were all chipped and cut hastily with a cheap pocket knife she carted around. She had a few small scrapes from where she'd been too shaky at times to escape cutting her nails unscathed.

She felt bad for using Richard's stuff like this, but in all honesty, it felt amazing to be clean. This was her second real shower since-

no.

She whole body shivered despite the blazing water and she tensed, groping for a hold on the smooth tile wall. Winter didn't want to think about it, she-

 **"Hm... looks like we found the thorn in our side."**

"No!" She hissed, screwing her eyes shut and forcing the memories out. After a moment, she returned to reality victorious and grabbed a tall bottle of shampoo that definitely didn't smell like something a girl would use.

But in all honesty, she didn't care.

Before everything had went down, Winter was mainly a tomboy, at least in actions. In eighth grade she started trading some of her all t-shirt wardrobe for a dress or two; but it wasn't like anyone noticed. She'd loved anything related to the outdoors, and built up a good amount of muscle, some of which remained.

Winter was the third of four children born to a engineer father who worked long hours in pursuit of life, liberty, and a six figure salary, and a mother who worked for a local bakery. The older two children were Autumn and Mark, the youngest being Lucas.

And Winter was just the odd one out.

It wasn't like she was intentionally ignored. Autumn constantly had to be rushed about to different community service venues, as well as to her seat as Class President. When she could finally drive, Winter thought it would leave a little room for her and her mother, at least, to bond.

But she was dead wrong.

Mark was a quiet kid, always in a corner with his nose in a book. But when it came to swim season, everyone in the house was up at four in the morning, even Winter. Only two years younger than Autumn, Winter's wish crumbled in her hands as her brother was whisked around to practice and meets, and finally to States, where he placed second.

When he could drive at seventeen, Winter hoped the four year gap between him and her would leave her a chance at last for some time with her mom.

But yet again...

Lucas was the daredevil child. He was eight when Winter graduated, attending her graduation sporting a neon green sore thumb of a cast from riding his bike off the first story roof of their home. Strangely, that wasn't what caused the injury; it was the patio table being planted squarely where he swerved after landing. He was constantly trying some new sport, and Winter was thoroughly convinced he'd be a snowboarder for the Olympics at the rate he was going.

So Winter got overlooked.

Her parents did ask how she was, and they did tell her they loved her. But no one ever showed up to congratulate her after traveling with her Physics teacher and the other AP "geeks" her junior year to claim first in a scholastic competition. No one showed up at the art show when she claimed two awards. No one came to see her win three senior awards.

It was only her.

Winter didn't mind so much now, though. She was completely independent as a result, always taking everything into her own hands and handling it from there. After... events related to Cadmus, being homeless and alone hadn't been as hard as she thought. True, she was hungry and cold or dirty all the time, but it wasn't like she'd had any friends from school to turn to for help afterwards.

Winter's family did make time for one thing: church. They all went every Sunday, and Winter was involved in their worship team; she ran the audio with her only friend Dave in the sound booth in the back while he ran the overheads for songs. The two reached a point where they didn't need to talk to know if something needed to be fixed; one look between the two, and it was done.

The exhausted eighteen year old wondered who'd replaced her. She didn't even know how her family reacted to her death. But it'd been what, five months? And they were probably used to her being missing from their lives.

So there really was no going back.

Winter slipped the water off, listening to the final trickle drip down the drain, stepping out of the shower, a towel immediately wrapped around her. Winter quickly pulled on the clean (or semi-clean) change of clothes in her bag and pulled out a small brush, working it through her wet curly hair; the tangles fell out easily, and she sighed in relief at finally feeling clean.

It was a great feeling.

But what wasn't great was that, as she went to leave the bathroom-

 **"I know how to deal with traitors like you... we've had plenty of experience."**

 **"What do you want done, sir?"**

 **"Destroy the lab. We're compromised, thanks to you. And... you get to watch the explosion, little girl. In fact, you get a front row seat. You'll be inside. Secure her better. I want this place to blow by one in the morning so I can alert the main lab of our situation."**

 **"Yes, sir."**

 **"And you two... being the gentlemen that you are, don't hesitate to-"**

Winter fell to the ground, shaking and sobbing. Five months later and she still couldn't handle the nightmares. It was horrible; it hurt to even think about. The girl quickly wiped her eyes and shakily stood, composing herself before grabbing her bag and heading back downstairs.

Every step was a battle to forget what was trying to revive itself in her mind. She saw enough of it, reliving it all in her dreams, every painful moment...

she didn't need to think about it now.

Winter finally reached where Richard still was; he was taking a break, guzzling down a semi-chilled warm bottle, another in his hand as she walked up to him. "Here," he took a second to breathe and handed the cool bottle to her. "You look better."

"I feel better." Winter smiled gratefully. "Thanks... sorry for using your stuff though. I cleaned the bathroom so no one would notice."

"Good idea, but I could've got that."

"Didn't want to take any chances." Richard could tell something was up; something had happened that was horrible. He'd told her she didn't have to tell him, not unless she wanted to.

And she hadn't.

So he knew deep down not to press the matter. There was trauma from whatever had happened to Winter, something that scarred her deeply. And since he'd never seen anything other than thick layers of thin shirts and a worn jacket, he didn't know if the wounds ran over her body as well as her mind.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(November 16th, 5:36 PM - Mount Justice)**

"You're nuts!"

 _ **No I'm not nuts! I'm condiments! I've been promoted!**_

Dick laughed, pausing as he adjusted his upside down hold on the higher uneven bar, reaching up with one hand to quickly push his glasses back in place. "What is that from?"

 _ **The A-team. Murdock's line.**_

"Murdock?"

 _ **Dude, don't you know anything about 80's shows?**_

"Uh, that would be a huge NO!" Dick snickered again, laughing as he flipped to the ground, landing with a backflip. Seriously, Winter-

 _ **Unbelievable!**_ Winter was pressed against a wall by the door in case someone happened to walk into the training room. She shook her head. _**The boy doesn't know good TV at all! We HAVE to watch it!**_

"Wait, didn't they use a lot of guns on that show?"

 _ **Yes! There might be hope for this child yet!**_ She grinned. _**I think you'll like the show, Dick.**_

Richard smiled. Lately, he'd been introduced to a lot of new things thanks to Winter. Older television shows was just one outlet, and it turned out he liked the shows a good deal. Of course, the graphics could be a little on the lackluster side at times and the plots cheesy, but they got his mind off of his life, even if it was only for the length of an episode…

it helped.

He hadn't cut today as a result of his failure, which shocked him greatly. It felt good, even though he could feel relapse gnawing at his empty stomach as he pushed himself through hour after hour of rigorous training.

"Robin?"

Richard fell to the mat below, landing on his still sore back. He didn't show it, but it hurt a good deal. He looked up and slowly stood.

Artemis stood in the doorway, her eyes narrowed again, just like earlier.

Wait, no. Not like earlier.

They weren't narrowed in misplaced anger; they were narrowed in concern. Her brown jacket looked a little bit worn, and her jeans did as well. "Are… are you alright?"

Richard tensed briefly, having to stop from sagging in relief after seeing Winter had turned invisible. "Yeah. I'm fine."

But his small smile didn't say that, nor did his slight slump of his young shoulders. Artemis bit her lip, feeling a little bad for her reaction earlier. She noticed that Robin was more reserved than usual, less cackling echoing through the cave. She felt that they'd all been a bit to hard on him earlier; this was Robin, for crying out loud! Maybe he'd just made a mistake…

another mistake.

It was all he seemed capable of doing anymore, just making mistakes.

But something was definitely wrong with him.

He was smaller. And Robin was already small. Artemis watched him before coming into the room, noting critically that his clothes were too big.

Even his suit anymore seemed a bit too loose, almost baggy.

Oh, who was she kidding? It WAS baggy.

And his skin was pale. Okay, the kid was always white, but this? It bordered on illness!

But maybe she was thinking about it a little too much…

after all, Robin had managed to screw up how many missions?

She nodded slowly. "What were you laughing about?"

Laughing about…?

Crap.

"Just remembered a joke I heard earlier," Robin shrugged it off, trying to smile again. He grabbed his water bottle and look a small sip before screwing the cap back on just a bit too tightly as Artemis left.

Just outside the doors, she met the others. They were sure to stay out of sight.

Superboy had overheard Robin laughing, M'gann had picked up on his side of the mind link laying dormant, Kaldur had expressed some concern to Artemis over Robin's story from earlier, and Wally just showed up grudgingly, glaring at the door.

Superboy was indifferent as he said plainly, "He seems fine to me."

"Not to me, though," M'gann sighed. "Though he's blocked off his mind, I can feel residual pain, or grief."

"He has been in there for three hours now," Kaldur commented in a near whisper. "And he never wears attire like that."

"Attire?" Wally couldn't care less about that halfwit on the other side of the closed door-

"His clothes are much too big for him." Aqualad shook his head. "Were we too harsh earlier?"

Kid Flash snorted. "No. The jerk lied, okay? All he's done is mess up one thing after another for us. He's ruining our shot to get this right and make the League see we're capable. He's just dead weight." His one hand found Artemis' and as he held her's, she couldn't help but disagree with her boyfriend.

Something was definitely wrong.

* * *

 _-was it long enough? sorry for any typos :(_

 _any thoughts/criticism/etc, etc, etc? please let me know- it helps me get better at writing! :)_

 _next chapter we find out if anyone actually has this little thing called common sense... seriously, how are they missing this?! oh wait... Robin's too awesome for his own good. will anyone notice? will someone finally figure it out? WE WILL FIND OUT... when i update next._

 _thanks, Guest of Honor, Misskinny, WildChild13, and dragonfly91 for reviewing! :)_


	12. For the 1 Who Got Away

_-hey! i returned!  
_

 _so we left off with Winter's backstory, and me leaving you all with hope that Bruce might come to his senses..._

 _let's see how this turns out! :)_

 _(btw, i will only be able to update this story every other week anymore. i'm sorry, and i know it's annoying for you all, but i have a lot on my plate, and it's only getting fuller. this story takes a lot of time to write for, just because it's trickier to work with the subject matter. idk... i'm so sorry. :( i hope the chapters are good enough to make up for your wait!)_

 _read on!_

* * *

 **(November 18th, 3:25 PM - Gotham Academy)**

So Bruce was ten minutes late.

His meeting with several other big name companies (including Lex Corp, considering they were starting to go under after the scandal in July) had run over just a tad.

And he wasn't on time to pick up Richard.

But his ward deserved to wait a few minutes. After messing up so much…

As he pulled the spotless grey Lamborghini up to the curb, he noticed a group of students huddled around something, their phones out. Rolling down the window just enough to see out, Bruce pulled up further.

And he was horrified.

Just as he shifted into park, he saw his ward get punched in the face.

Richard fell from the impact, not making a sound, just touching his lip with hopes that it wasn't busted.

But it was, sadly.

Bruce's eyes narrowed. Why was Dick being punched? What-

"Little freak," the same older boy sneered, throwing another punch, his one into his stomach. Half the group laughed, the others shushing their peers to get the best sound quality with their recording.

Bruce started to get out of the car, noticing that no one was going to help Richard, not even the boy himself. He opened his door and was about to step out when a hooded figure suddenly appeared, Richard's blue eyes wide at not only her sudden appearance, but two of the bully's pals stepping beside him, fists ready to fly. The figure shoved Richard out of harm's way and the original jerk glared. "Stupid idiot!" Wow, what a powerful insult. "Why do you keep getting in our way?"

"So an innocent kid doesn't get hurt any further, you halfwit." Bruce couldn't tell if Richard's rescuer was male or female, but it didn't matter as the boys turned their aggression and anger onto them instead, not holding anything back. Bruce stood in shock for a moment (he'd later deny it was shock and say he was assessing the situation) before stepping calmly and coldly onto the curb. He was about to address the trio whose fists were smeared with streaks of both Richard's and his savior's blood when the person's hood fell off after a rather hard punch in the back.

All three boys stopped, eyes comically huge as a girl with blond, curly hair looked up, not glaring in anger, but just looking up in sympathy. But what reason did she have for anything of the sort?! These brutes had just attacked her! She was bruised and busted up, though not horribly so. Why was she giving them any thought above hatred?

The boys quickly backtracked away, cursing her out as Richard found his feet and grabbed her hand, pulling her up. He thanked her and she just shrugged, wincing from the movement.

Bruce walked forward now, wanting to thank the girl and get her name. "Hey-"

but she was gone.

Whether she'd ran off into the street or just ducked behind a wall Bruce wasn't sure, but she was long gone. At the sight of Bruce Wayne, many students quickly deleted the video from their phones, the bullies just glaring daggers at Dick's back as Bruce asked him if he was alright. All he got was a shocked expression and a quiet nod.

As he walked back to the car with Richard right behind him, Bruce couldn't help but wonder… was this why Richard was messing up so frequently? He was being bullied? Was he so thrown off his game by whatever he was experiencing inside Gotham Academy's prestigious walls that he was failing left and right?

Bruce opened the passenger side door for Richard and motioned for him to get in. Richard's shocked expression was still there-

good God.

As he got in, Bruce wanted to get a closer look at how bad his lip was. But instead, all he could see were the dark circles and purple smudges under and around his ward's eyes. He was more pale, too.

Bruce softly shut the door and walked around, slipping back into the driver's seat and rolling the window up as the door shut. He looked at Richard, who had his eyes glued to his folded hands in his lap, his backpack resting on the floor between his knees. Bruce frowned at how loose his uniform was. It looked too big, baggy almost…

was he eating enough?

Bruce shook his head. He'd missed all this. He'd missed so much between work and being the city's caped vigilante. Richard looked haggard, like he just needed a break from it all. How was he possibly dragging himself to the mountain every single day, helping out his team, helping him on patrol, AND getting his homework done in this state?

Looking away for a minute, Bruce finally sighed and looked back to the child slumped in his seat. "Richard?"

Richard's head slowly lifted, his dark hair half in his face. He looked wary, and exhausted.

"Are you alright? Did he hit you before I got there?"

Dick started to shake his head no, but hesitated at the pointed, yet gentle look from Bruce and nodded. "Y-yeah."

"Where?"

More hesitation.

"Dick, please," Bruce half pleaded. "What did he do to you?"

Richard breathed a sigh of his own. "Not much. Just… hammered my ribs and stomach. No big deal."

What?! "Richard, this isn't right!"

"So?"

So? So what? "How bad does it hurt?"

"Doesn't."

"Richard…"

Dick shrugged, not even wincing. "It really doesn't hurt much. I… it's a random thing. He's only done this a couple times before. Like I said… no big deal."

Bruce was a little relieved to hear it wasn't a common thing. And he was glad it was a Friday. "You're not going to the mountain tonight."

Dick looked up, instantly saddened. "Why? I didn't-"

"You look like you haven't been able to sleep decently for a while, and you're in pain, even if it's not much. Besides, there's no missions tonight, and no training. Just stay home and rest, and we'll go on patrol together later."

Dick's eyes widened in joy at hearing the last part and Bruce just started the car, pulling away from the school, wondering what Richard could possibly be thinking.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(at the same time)**

Richard felt good.

And horrible.

And relieved.

But nervous.

And above all, sore.

He felt good that Bruce had actually asked him if he was okay. He felt good that this was the most they'd talked in… forever, really.

He felt horrible because he'd lied. This was a common occurrence. Not the punching, but the bullying and teasing in general.

He felt relieved because Winter had managed to slip away before Bruce got to her. She'd changed her hair color back to its normal jet back just before running away and fading into an invisible shadow in seconds.

He felt nervous because Bruce would probably ask if he knew her; he hoped he'd been convincing enough as he tried to act like he'd never seen her before in his life, which wasn't as hard as he thought once he saw her blonde hair. And he was also nervous because he didn't want Bruce finding out about his… his bad habit.

And the soreness was just from the fight.

As they drove, Richard dared to glance at his guardian, not caring that Bruce had been late in the least. He seemed relaxed almost, like he was starting to revert to the man he'd known originally, all those years ago.

He only hoped it would stay like this.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(November 22nd)**

Bruce had gotten home early and to Richard's complete shock, told Alfred they were going out.

For pizza.

Dick wasn't sure what brought about the change in Bruce, but there was finally a tangible line separating Batman and Bruce Wayne.

Of course the line was still quite vague…

Richard wondered as they drove, Bruce discussing a new Wayne Tech project with him, if this had anything to do with-

but it couldn't!

… right?

But that definitely seemed possible, as Bruce's countless cups of daily coffee no longer contained one major ingredient…

Richard didn't care; Bruce was halfway back to the man he'd originally knew.

And he knew he didn't dare to hope…

but he wanted so badly for it to remain that way.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(November 26th)**

Something was bothering Bruce.

Dick took immediate notice to the tension marring Bruce's face, even behind the dark cowl. They'd gone on patrol, everything going flawlessly. They'd had dinner beforehand, Bruce offering a "good job" at seeing Dick's report card. All high A's.

He wondered briefly if things were slowly starting to fall back to the way they'd been before. Everything had been good for this beautiful week. So good…

Dick didn't want to lose that.

Not again.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(November 30th, 11:04 PM - Wayne Manor)**

Richard sat huddled against the bedroom wall, his arms wrapped tightly around his bony knees.

It happened.

Bruce came home from work late, not even an hour ago.

And all he was… was one big scowl.

Richard had immediately retreated to his room, forcing himself to hold back his tears. He knew better than to hope things would actually change! What a fool he had been…

He'd gotten his hopes up. He'd hoped things would be different this time. He'd hoped this would last. He'd…

Richard had hoped Bruce actually cared.

But as it seemed to be a constant trend in his life, he'd drawn the short straw again. Everything was back to the way it was before.

He was still a failure.

He was still worthless.

He was still a mistake, complete with a shattered heart and veins that unfortunately pumped blood through his battered and sleepwalking system.

Richard buried his head in his arms, every cut he hadn't touched in almost two weeks now burning like a blowtorch kissed his skin. He wanted so badly to grab his blade, stop the burning and replace it with pain…

but he couldn't.

All his strength went to his muddled mind, trying to sort out what he'd done to mess up this time, to cause Bruce to…

to drink again.

It wasn't much at first; when he was first adopted, Bruce drank once in a long while; most of the so-called alcohol the playboy consumed wasn't at all.

But in the last year, something in Bruce had decided a little booze couldn't hurt. After all, Batman could handle anything, right?

So the fake alcohol was slowly replaced with the real thing…

until Bruce brought the ugly substance home.

His office was stocked with various bottles, a new one empty every night. Richard thought at first it was just a result of tension at work. But after he started messing up on missions, he blamed himself for Bruce's booze battle. He was sure he was what drove his guardian to drink.

When Bruce drank, he was more… irritable sounded like a good word; it wasn't far from the truth. The man was easily upset, and had cursed at Dick on a couple of occasions, a new cut etched into his pale skin for every vulgar word.

For almost two weeks, Bruce hadn't drank a drop.

He'd blown that streak in his office…. at work, no doubt heading upstairs to fill whatever void in his life with another bottle.

Richard tried to tell himself it wasn't his fault, that Bruce was stressed over a serial killer ghosting through Gotham's streets, targeting anyone under thirty-five with ties to ACE Chemical. Whatever the reason, Bruce didn't know. No one had been able to lay a finger on the motive.

Not even Batman.

Suddenly a hand on his shoulder snapped Dick out of his dark mind and he jumped, looking up to see Winter. She looked sad.

And thinner yet.

Winter sat beside him, wordlessly linking an arm behind his shaking shoulders. Dick didn't hold back; instead of trying to keep the waterfall of tears at bay, he curled into her well worn jacket and shuddered, the tears falling and soaking her shirt.

Winter just held him like that until well past one in the morning, praying that he'd be able to keep going after this, and praying that she'd have the willpower to not punch Bruce Wayne square in the nose after shattering her best friend's heart yet again.

* * *

 _-what? you guys really thought i was going to make Bruce see the light? sorry, not gonna happen. at least, not yet._

 _now you all know what's up with Bruce. well, most of it._

 _sorry for any mistakes :(_

 _and i'm not sure if i established this before or not, but Dick and Winter will NOT have any romance between them. at all. whatsoever. she's five years older than him anyways!_

 _thanks, Sairey13, Asterbear, Monkeysloveapples, Anniebabywaterc, Nightwingsass, Guest of Honor, Silver, Pirateweasel, Missskinny, WildChild13, Therna Blakeheart, and Lameo for the reviews :) (i really hope i got all your names right!)_


	13. For Every Wandering Soul

_-hello again :) so… sorry for smashing people's dreams last chapter with Bruce coming to his senses about Richard's condition and then everything just returning to the way it was before. this chapter… ugh, i make no promises. let's just say this: there's angst ahead._

 _(warning: um… nothing major, but something's definitely implied. nothing graphic this chapter.)_

* * *

 **(December 1st, 12:30 AM - Gotham City)**

This was great.

This was so stinking great.

This was so underwhelmingly stinking great it wasn't funny.

Robin gasped, his hand pressed against his bloody chest as he wheezed, the frigid Gotham air pricking his lungs like shards of glass.

What had even happened again?

Oh yeah…

Split up.

Batman and Robin were on patrol, pursuing a bank robber through the snowy streets, when they heard screams for help.

A fire.

Without a moment's hesitation to Batman's order of, "Split up," Dick rushed to the burning building. A two story bakery, with minimal flames.

He'd be back with Bats in no time.

Or… so he foolishly assumed.

* * *

...

* * *

 **(only fifteen minutes before)**

 _"HELP!"_

 _Robin rushed into the flaming building, mentally preparing his apology for Alfred, who would inevitably have to make him a new cape. He logged his steps and turns, not wanting to get lost in the engulfed bakery as the flames seemed to grow tenfold instantly. Left at the red door frame, right at the blue door frame, up the stairs, right again into a room-_

 _bingo!_

 _"H-" the cry for a savior was cut off by a hacking fit, triggered by the smoke. Robin could feel his lungs filling with the thick smog and felt around on his utility belt for the mask both he and Batman carried._

 _It was gone._

 _No time to keep looking, he coughed weakly against his wishes and strained to see through the growing grey clouds._

 _There was a young girl, maybe fifteen, huddled in the corner, coughing her lungs out. He didn't have time to think as he grabbed her wrist and ran, reversing the door colors so he knew the way out. He barely made it outside, collapsing with the girl at his bony side as both were overcome by the fumes. She was immediately whisked away by two dark blue medics, who apparently agreed with the rest of the world (except for Winter) that he was a nuisance and a drain on resources others could put to better use. He didn't receive any oxygen; instead, coughing up what felt like slivers of glass, Richard mumbled something (what, he wasn't sure), quickly feeling to make sure his mask wasn't burned off before he forced his stinging eyes open. He staggered away, the gathering crowd murmuring as he ran without any assistance._

 _Clouded over senses caused him to stumble and fall into an alley only a block later. Dick coughed, wheezing futilely for any little bit of precious oxygen he could. He rolled from his back to his side, trying to see where he was-_

 _"Oh, look who's here."_

 _Robin slowly looked up, his breath slowly starting to even out and become a feasible feat. Purple suit-_

 _no._

 _No._

 _The Joker stood over him, grinning madly. "Looks like little Robby-poo here is down for the count. Such a shame… it's no fun playing games with you if you're half asleep."_

 _Robin half hoped the lunatic (what was way too weak of a word) would decide to wander off, but this was the Joker, and that was an absurd wish._

 _"Hm, but I could have some fun, right? I mean-" the mad man revealed a knife stashed in his pocket, which meant there had to be more "-I do have somewhere to be tonight, so this will only be a slight delay…"_

 _And with that, a sharp fist met Robin's jaw._

 _He bit his lip at first, then realizing he needed more air, started to gasp, just as the Joker's foot slammed into his stomach harder than any high school jock ever kicked a football. He groaned, trying his best not to show he was reaching for the newest addition to his utility belt: a tracking device that sent an alert to Batman if there was pressing danger or he was injured._

 _But it didn't work._

 _There was supposed to be a dull hum when it activated, but there was nothing. No sound. No nothing._

 _It was broke._

 _Richard cursed his luck and started wishing he'd just passed out at the fire scene instead of running into everyone's least favorite green-haired nutcase. He felt a searing pain in his chest and the Joker then said something before stalking off. All Dick caught as he left over the ringing pain in his ears was, "Better meet my shipment at the dock… only twenty crewmen on that ship. Barely enough to have fun with before they break!"_

* * *

…

* * *

 **(back in the present)**

Robin shivered, his teeth chattering and sending jolts of white hot agony through his system. He was half frozen by now, but at least that was slowing his blood down so he didn't bleed to death. Sure, the Joker probably hadn't sliced him up much, but still… blood was blood, and he liked it inside, not outside and dripping all over the ground!

Someone shouted and grabbed him, hauling him off the ground and running . As he was jostled, Robin moaned and the running slowed just enough. He sputtered, his dry throat tasting like the smoke still. He was laid down on something and Dick felt heat. Glorious heat slowly reached his aching, icy body and he gave in to the pain, out cold.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(December 1st, 7:58 AM - Wayne Manor)**

Forty stitches wrapped under layers of gauze.

Three bruised ribs.

First degree burns on his upper arms, hands, and his right foot.

A nasty knock on the head, but no concussion.

Black eye.

Split lip.

Bruised knuckles.

And a very sore knee, if the massive bruise was anything to go off of.

Alfred sighed sadly, shaking his head as he gently pulled the blankets up a little more around Richard. When Bruce arrived at the cave with Richard in his arms, blood running over the sliced open suit, Alfred immediately wanted to wring the unholy neck of whatever heathen was responsible for hurting his sweet child this way.

Upon removing his uniform, Alfred noticed a large, hasty "J" in the dead center of Richard's chest, the third one to mar his torso now. This one was straight, unlike the other two that were twisted to the side or slanted. It was also the biggest, and he was positive the Joker was the one he wanted to hurt; Alfred had enough against that freak to kill him. Several times over.

And Alfred didn't hold grudges, so that was saying a lot.

Richard mumbled, but didn't stir. Alfred had been in his room all night and morning, having washed the smoke and soot off him. Then he went to work on repairing the burnt and sliced up suit.

Bruce didn't say a word, just disappeared to his study.

Alfred had argued with Bruce so many times now over what he did in that study. Another bottle or two drained dry. Alfred tried to reason with him. He wanted to try to take away the alcohol, but he knew Bruce would only be enraged by such a move and probably become worse.

As he removed the young master's stained suit, Alfred saw two bandages wrapped around the boy's bone-thin wrists. Both were white, like his wraps for when he trained, and Alfred just thought they were in place to prevent strain.

So he didn't investigate.

Now the injured child lay swaddled in a massive grey sweatshirt and sweatpants, his hair slightly too long and swept almost over his eyes. Alfred turned to move a pitcher of cool water closer to the boy's bed in his room and was happy to see him shift in the bed and painfully, slowly force his eyes open.

But instead of a sarcastic comment or his usual wordplay, Richard just looked at him dully… like he regretted waking up.

Maybe it was just the pain; that's what Alfred hoped, at least. "How do you feel?"

Dick never noticed the whole "Master" thing wasn't tacked on like always, but he just shrugged, then winced, and said hoarsely, "Horrible. What-"

Before anything else could be said Bruce flung the door open with a bang and Richard winced at the sound. His ears rang as Bruce glared and started on him. "Why didn't you activate the tracker?"

"I-I," Richard broke off, coughing from the dry feeling of invisible cotton in his throat. Alfred quickly poured a cool glass of water and helped him to sit up slightly so he could drink. "I tried," he spoke again, this time much easier, "but it wouldn't activate. It broke-"

"No it didn't." Bruce just turned and left, his blue eyes sending the message of what he didn't say but practically screamed loud and clear:

You're lying.

Alfred watched Richard deflated, a single sigh leaving his lips. He didn't know what to do anymore.

* * *

…

* * *

(that afternoon)

 _Dick?_

Richard almost smiled; he held back as Alfred was in the room. But hearing Winter's voice… or thoughts… might just be the only good thing to come his way today. _**Hey, Winter.**_

 _You okay? You sound shaky, and that's only your thoughts…_

 **Got injured. No big deal.**

 _No big deal?!_

Dick wanted to groan. _**It's not that bad-**_

 _What. Happened. To. You._

Oh boy… and he thought Alfred was a mother hen! _**Listen, I'm okay. Just got a little sliced up-**_

 _RICHARD GRAYSON!_

If only he could face-palm right now… _**I'll be fine. Really. How're you doing?**_

 _Better than you, apparently._

 _ **Seriously, Winter…**_

Richard had to wait for her reply. Hesitation? _I'm good. Just a little tired. Worry about yourself and getting better, okay?_

 **Hey, Alfred and Bruce have somewhere to be tomorrow… can you come over?** He really wanted Winter to say yes. Dick didn't want to be alone.

 _Y-yeah. I'll be over._

Richard frowned a little, and as Alfred looked his way, the kind and concerned butler mistook it for discomfort. "Are you alright, Master Richard?"

Winter giggled mentally as Richard's thought of _**I gotta go… Mother hen Alfred is about to lay an egg**_ came across their link. They both closed down the connection and Richard sighed, his chest aching more from Bruce's rejection than the wounds.

If only they both knew Bruce never added the batteries that powered the tracker…

* * *

...

* * *

 **(at the same time, back in the alley by Wayne Tech)**

Crime was dropping.

Not a lot, at least in the realm of petty stuff or murder.

But the numbers being super villains?

Yeah, those tanked.

And as Winter clipped off the link with Richard, she couldn't help but be a little proud she'd had something to do with that.

Yeah, her whole involvement with Superboy (Dick said he was "Conner" now) being freed had a little something to do with it; after all, her contacting the J.L.A. threw off the whole evil underworld. But…

that wasn't it.

The dropping temperatures caused Winter to pull her worn coat closer, trying to block the cold. It was only ten degrees out, but she was alright.

After all, invisibility wasn't the only power she emerged from Cadmus' wreckage with.

Winter found as the cold, bitter months drew closer that she was adjusting far more easily to higher or lower temperatures. It was almost like she was cold-blooded, at least to a degree.

And that didn't surprise her much.

She shivered just a little, thinking back to how she'd been busy this week. A newspaper rolled in a crumpled mass into the alley, the article title blaring at her exhausted eyes.

 **TROUBLESOME TRIO DROPPED OFF IN D.C.**

Three criminals had shown up in Gotham for no obvious reason; it really seemed like Gotham was attracting all the lunatics, though, which wasn't good. None of them were recognizable, but it was obvious they weren't run of the mill jerks who ran off with an old lady's purse.

Especially since one of them had a metallic black domed helmet with some sort of red lights…

Winter remembered feeling so drained after scrounging all day for just something to keep herself going, anything. But instead nausea took over as flashbacks attacked violently and she had been heaving up nothing but air and just a tiny bit of bile for some time. She remembered stumbling to her feet as night fell on Gotham's skyline and then saw the blurry forms of these nuts from a distance.

Unable to see clearly and knowing Batman probably wasn't aware of their presence in Gotham, Winter trailed them from a distance, unsure of who the two hooded figures were with the Darth Vader wannabe who really needed to rethink his helmet design. She ducked around corners, buildings, benches-

and just attacked.

No reason behind her assault at all, Winter just remembered feeling a deep sense of warning, that these people (or aliens… or possibly robots… or poorly put-together Sith Lords?) had to be stopped. She slipped into blending in with the night's darkness and threw invisible punches, her already drained strength fading as she drew on adrenaline and her slight touch of super speed to knock out the two who were unremarkably drab in all black. One's hood fell off and she could've sworn the face beneath was tinted green…

"Who…" the helmeted figure whirled in a circle, swinging at thin air as Winter dodged. She looked around for something stronger than her hands-

a bat.

Really? Where did the baseball bat come from?

… and why was it bloody?

Winter shook herself from that distraction and swung with all her might (some of it enhanced as well…) at the weirdo's blurred head, hoping she hit.

And she fell.

The force of her hit sent such a vibration through her that Winter was sent flying onto her back several feet away, the goon falling in a heap. She looked around to see if it was safe to re-appear…

Left side was clear.

Right side was clear.

Front was clear.

Back was cl-

Back was NOT CLEAR!

Superman's bright symbol shone in the dark Gotham night and that was all she needed to see before bolting. Winter reached her little alley and fell asleep instantly, collapsing from exhaustion.

Unfortunately, the poor girl wasn't going to get the rest she desperately needed.

* * *

...

* * *

 **(flashback to early July...)**

 _"I know how to deal with traitors like you... we've had plenty of experience."_

 _Winter struggled in between the grip of two giants in skin tight black suits; a third stood behind her, a machine gun cradled in his meaty fingers. She glared at the man, knowing that she'd done the right thing…_

 _but she probably wasn't going to live to see the result._

 _"What do you want done, sir?" the masked man on her right asked, his voice gruff, the stench of a bonfire seeping through the fabric._

 _"Destroy the lab. We're compromised, thanks to you. And... you get to watch the explosion, little girl. In fact, you get a front row seat. You'll be inside. Secure her better. I want this place to blow by one in the morning so I can alert the main lab of our situation." Winter couldn't see who was talking, except for a bright lab coat. That was all. Their voice was distorted by some machine, and they stood strategically inside a clump of shadows._

 _"Yes, sir."_

 _"And you two... being the gentlemen that you are…"_

 _Winter felt her heart freeze colder than her name. His tone didn't imply anything good. What could possibly be worse than dying for contacting the Justice League?_

 _"...don't hesitate to… have a little fun with her."_

 _No._

 _No, no, no, no! Winter knew struggling at this point was futile; she was worn out from kicking, screaming, and she was sure her right wrist was sprained… at least._

 _There was no way out of here._

 _Something stabbed her arm just as soon as the talking ended and Winter instantly felt every muscle relax. No matter how loud her brain screamed for some sort of movement, even a twitch, there was nothing._

 _A paralysis drug…_

 _The man behind her laughed, and it sent chills down her spine as he said, "Well, well, well… I always did think you were a pretty girl."_

 _Even screaming wasn't an option as Winter's voice left too. After being half-dragged outside, thrown into the back of a Cadmus supply van (she was sure that resulted in a bruised rib… or five), and dragged out again some time later, she was back at the lab, instead of the random warehouse she'd woken up in after being knocked out hours earlier at her capture._

 _The helpless teen was thrown to the ground and the three men each pulled off their masks. She couldn't see any of their faces in the dark, but she didn't need to, as they all chuckled to themselves, the one muttering, "Such a beautiful girl…" before kneeling beside her and-_

* * *

…

* * *

 **(END FLASHBACK! Whoa, that was hard to write! Now, back to Winter waking up from a nightmare/flashback...)**

"No!" Winter woke up with a jolt, eyes wide and burning with pain. Her whole body ached at the memory, every little detail of the room, every word, every little sneer on the men's faces…

She wanted it gone.

Winter curled into a ball, trying to protect herself from the air around her. She was scared, afraid of anything touching her. She bit her lip and whispered, "It's okay. It's not going to happen again. It's not going to happen again. You're not there…"

This was why she didn't sleep.

Winter sighed. She needed a night where she was busy. She needed a reason to stay awake…

Wait. She was going to the manor tomorrow to help Richard out.

Maybe this was the break she needed.

She could hide out in Wayne Manor for the night, get out of the cold, and stay on her toes making sure Bruce (okay, she was calling him Bats like Dick did) and Alfred didn't find her.

But for now, the events were too fresh in her mind, so Winter just kept rocking in her little ball, feeling the blast and overwhelming heat from the explosion despite the icy wind tearing at her clothes.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(December 2nd, 10:10 AM - Wayne Manor)**

 _ **It's not that I hate Bruce.**_

Winter and Dick had been talking for some time, all of it mental. She spirited away whenever Richard needed anything, taking just enough of something so it wasn't found to be out of place or tampered with.

She watched Richard as he sighed. _**I really don't hate him. He's done a lot for me, you know? I mean, I'd probably still be in that juvenile detention center or some orphanage if he hadn't shown up. But…**_

Winter just watched him carefully, still aching from last night as she sat on his bed. _But what?_ she prompted, taking his small hand in her invisible one.

 _ **But he's changed. Bruce actually has feelings, you know.**_

Winter bit her lip. He did?

 _ **It's Batman that doesn't.**_

Her eyes widened. So that's how Richard saw this whole thing. Bruce… was becoming his alter ego. And it was destroying him.

 _ **I mean, I understand him being rough during training. He has to be. After all, this is Gotham, and you've to be prepared. But… there's no encouragement. Nothing. For four years of living here, you'd think maybe he'd get the hang of having a kid around.**_

Dick just refered to himself as a kid.

 _ **I grew up way too fast…**_ Richard's head hung. _**I'm not a kid anymore, not mentally at least. I feel like I'm eighty, like my mind's just so tired of working in overdrive…**_

Winter nodded. _I know how you feel…_ She trailed off and left that thought hanging.

But Richard wasn't letting this drop like she was. _**Winter, you never did mention if anything else happened to you. You know, when Cadmus-**_

 _You don't need to hear it._

Dick looked up, saddened. _**Winter, please. It's obviously hurting you-**_

 _Dick, stop. What happened is what happened. I can't go back and change it if I tried. And besides, you are still thirteen. You might've seen it all in Gotham, but there's some things you don't need to hear. Not yet. The more violence and death and horror you experience will just numb you to it. Trust me, I'll tell you, but not now. You still need to have some innocence left._

Richard's tired mind didn't catch her major hint, but he smiled sadly. _**I understand. Sorry for pressuring you.**_

 _It's fine. I know you want the full story, but it's painful to tell._

Dick shrugged, then winced. _**So… see the game last night?**_

Winter giggled. _Really? That's your idea of changing the subject?_

She was glad Richard could still smile.

It meant there was still a little bit of his vivid nine year old self still left.

There was hope yet.

* * *

 _-how was that? okay?_

 _and… since season 2 of The Flash started, my brain has been bugging me over not finishing Rainbow Veins. so… it'll be back next saturday! a new chapter! wow… i know it's not my best story, but i still love it, even if a lot of people don't._

 _next chapter… Bruce meets an escape artist! (any guesses who?) ;)_

 _thanks, Angelcat8, Misskinny, Sairey13, Asterbear, Adrianna Agray, Nightwingsass, Guest of honor, Therna Blakeheart, Bloodanddreams, Pirateweasel, and Guest for reviewing! (sorry if i misspelled anybody's name!)_


	14. The Light is Darkest

_-this chapter's a bit lighter than the last one, just to break things up. after all, if Dick's having a rough time with injuries from the Joker… then Bruce can afford to have a rough time, too._

* * *

 **(December 3rd, 12:04 PM - outside Wayne Tech)**

Bruce was hungry.

And a bit flushed.

And he certainly wasn't planning to head down to the bar a block away for a sandwich… and a new bottle or two of alcohol because his office supply was dwindling.

As he walked past his building's corner, he stopped, noticing someone in the alley outside. They were curled by a vent and holding a well-worn book in their gloved hands. They looked cold.

It surely wouldn't hurt if Bruce Wayne was seen helping out a destitute soul, especially after the last Gotham rag printed some crap about him and a well-known prostit-

okay, that wasn't entirely lies.

In fact…

Bruce shook his head and stepped into the alley his blue eyes growing wide.

Was this…

It….

It was the girl!

Why wasn't she in school?

Bruce walked up to her, each step echoing in time with a metronome. The girl looked up her eyes narrowed. "Sir, if you don't mind, you're blocking my light."

Did she not know who he was?! Bruce felt a tad offended. "Excuse me? Your light?"

"Well, I don't have the cash for one of those fancy desk top lights, so the sun will have to do. It's free, but the automatic shut off sucks." She smirked. "What's so special about me that the great and mighty Bruce Wayne leaves his tower to talk to me?"

So she did know… "You helped my ward."

She stood, closing the book without marking the page. Her clothes were wrinkled and worn and tattered and torn. She shivered for a second. "I did? Oh yeah, the former mathlete."

Former? What was she talking about? "I'm not sure what you mean… he's still-"

"-kicked off the Gotham team? Oh please, the kids at Northside High were bragging over their win last week at the shop on the corner. Grayson was the only brain on that team." She shrugged. "What? You too busy with Stark Industries to notice your own kid got booted?"

Something in her eyes wasn't right… it was too calculating for Bruce's liking, and certainly triggering endless alarms for Batman. "It's Wayne Tech. And he's not my kid," he said coldly, glaring her down.

"Oh…" She nodded. "Well, sir, I just assumed since he lived with you for like five years now-"

Bruce's fuse was completely burnt out by this kid. "You know what they say about people that assume."

"I do." Her blue eyes pierced Bruce's. "I also know what they say about you. And it's far worse than being called-"

Bruce cut her off. "Look, I just wanted to say thank you, not get in an argument." He was going to have the last word here. He was Batman! Batman always had the last word!

"Aw, I finally get a debate partner and he has to run off. Oh well… See ya!"

And they ran past.

Bruce whirled around to follow, but-

there was no one there.

They disappeared!

Bruce spun around once more, glad no cameras stalked him down yet. The book still lay in the alley…

they'd probably be back for it.

So Bruce decided to head off to his lunch like he planned before spotting the brat. He felt something brush against his coat, but at a glance, no one was there.

He walked on.

If he'd stayed, though, he'd have seen the shadow slip back into the alley and snatch up their book in shaking hands.

Winter reappeared, her eyes truly grey as the disguise she'd activated faded. She felt bad for being a bit snobby towards Mr. Wayne.

But she'd gotten the last word over Batman…

few could boast that.

So, she smirked momentarily, then snuggled back into her rags, sending another prayer heaven bound, hoping things would change for Richard soon…

* * *

…

* * *

 **(December 4th, 11:45 PM - Gotham City)**

So what if Bruce Wayne fumbled with getting the last word in?

Batman would succeed where his failure of an alter ego faltered.

Bruce's sole purpose of tonight's patrol was to find that girl. He wanted answers. He wanted lots of answers.

Like what her name was.

Like why she was hanging out in what was technically his alley.

And why she was giving him lip.

He didn't like that.

The pointy eared silhouette stalked down the snowy streets, searching for-

there!

"You look cold," Bruce remarked with a chill to his tone that made the Gotham air seem warm.

The girl turned, pulling tighter on the backpack straps that wore into her heavy-laden shoulders. "What's it to you?" she spat back, glaring with just as much intensity as he often did.

"I have some questions for you."

"I don't have any answers."

He was getting nowhere! There was an alley about ten feet away, and Batman knew it ended with a brick wall.

All he had to do was get this spitfire cornered…

Stepped towards her, crunching the snow underfoot. "Why the hostility?"

"I could ask you the same." She backed up just like Bruce wanted, and he was tempted to smirk. Her blue eyes looked incredibly familiar… almost like Richard's.

Wait, his eyes were blue, right?

Of course! Bruce analyzed the radiant irises, her eyes glittering with something even his perfectly-honed instincts (okay, they needed some recalibration, considering recent events) didn't quite decipher. "If you won't talk, I will use force."

She shook her head. "Some hero you are. The line between good and evil doesn't exist in Gotham, now does it?" She kept backing up, just like the big, bad, belligerent Bat wanted. "What'd I ever do to you, huh? Or to anybody?"

"You won't answer my questions."

"Soooo…." she waved her gloved hands in the air, gesturing and shrugging as she snarked, "that's enough reason to use me as a punching bag?"

Just a few more steps, and she'd be cornered, and he could just whip out a syringe and she'd be out cold, her blood stream racing with oh so beautiful sedatives…

Batman didn't speak, just kept moving towards her.

Three…

Two more steps…

Just one-

Her eyes went wide as she backed into the wall. She glanced around, eyes locking on Bruce's. "Nice trick."

"Thanks."

Her face slipped into a blank slate as she said simply, "Now see if you like mine."

She feinted to the right. Bats made a move to grab her, his coal-gloved fingers right above her arm, the cloth just touching his hand-

she was gone.

Gone!

Bruce whirled around. Not behind him. Not to the left. Not to the right. Not in front of him.

Where'd she go?

He growled, cursing under his breath. "She's good…"

* * *

 _-short, i know. sorry :( but if it helps, the next chapter will be a lot longer! (sorry for any mistakes)  
_

 _thank you all so much for the reviews! we passed 100 reviews AND... almost 100 follows. (at 99 right now). thank you, guys! i'm so amazed and humbled at the response this has gotten. :')_

 _be back soon!_


	15. Just Before the Dawn

_-i'm late! i know :( sorry about that. this week was... well, awesome! and hectic... it was just cool, okay? idk how to describe it._

 _so... happy almost Thanksgiving, guys! (even if you're not in America, just take a moment to be thankful for all you have. you might realize just how blessed you are.)_

 _and please, guys... please be praying for our world. we're in really rough shape. and it takes action to change that, not just a halfhearted retweet or a like on someone's "Pray for Paris" post._

 _last chapter: Winter got on Batman's nerves._

 _this chapter: no promises..._

 _(warnings for this chapter: self harm described)_

* * *

 **(December 17th, 5:21 PM - Wayne Manor)**

Richard recovered from the Joker's attack quite quickly. Whether he actually did recover or was just pushing himself to look like he had was unknown, but in a week he was back on his feet and training again, wearing himself out quicker than before, thanks to his stretch of resting.

That was a weakness.

And weakness needed to go.

But everything seemed to slow to a crawl, except the hustle and bustle of Christmas shoppers, and trying to get his mind out of its half frozen, muddy rut was impossible.

So he settled for…

finding a random red-wrapped box stuffed into his bag?

Dick sat on his bed, relaxing against a thick pillow as he cautiously turned the box in his chalk white spindle hands. Small… He bit his lip, then shrugged and shook the box slightly.

Nothing.

It sounded solid…

Was it a bomb?

Richard really hoped no one at school had that much resentment built up towards him. He didn't even know if it was a student or not; there was no tag on the present.

Another torn up copy of the Flying Grayson's famous poster?

That very thought made his aching heart burn and Richard shook the box violently.

Nope. Too heavy.

So… what was in it?

Richard sighed. "'Tis the season," he joked dryly, and he ripped the paper from the box, then tore off the cardboard lid-

a…

a book?

Richard slowly picked up the book, his blue eyes darting over the black leather cover. A few red and gray streaks slipped horizontally over the cover, and he turned it to see its binding. Was this a journal? Or-

"A… a Bible?" Dick thought for a moment. Who would've-

Winter.

Richard grinned, now a little regretful for shaking the box like a cookie-high five year old on Christmas morning. Winter had shown up five days ago to see him curled up in a ball on the other side of his bed, staring at the little compartment he'd devoted to housing four different blades as he'd thrown it into his wall. The four stained bits of metal lay on his carpeted floor, the dried blood a sharp contrast with the fair carpet. She didn't say a word, but instead grabbed up the vile shards and stuffed them in the case, then tucked it into her coat.

And Dick, in his sniffling ball of pain, didn't even protest.

He'd had far less of an urge to lock his bathroom door and pick out a weapon of choice lately. He still didn't see how his life had much meaning, but with the injuries and their own onslaught of grief, he didn't find cutting as appealing.

In fact, thinking about it right now made him feel sick.

But after Winter had taken the blades, she sat beside him, quiet for a minute. She just stared at the wall, and Richard, as he got his tears and breathing under better control (Winter sure knew how to read him; she knew if she touched him right now for a hug or a pat on the shoulder he'd lose any tangible thought left), he did the same.

And after a while Winter finally broke the silence with, "What if you had a distraction?"

Now, as he looked at the NLT branded book in his hands, Dick figured this was what she meant.

He slipped his finger under the cover and right on the inside cover was his name, written in Winter's mismatched handwriting.

He thought back to her further explanation of a "distraction": "If you have something you can get yourself so immersed in - aside from training, because we both know you're only hurting yourself with it - it can get your mind off just about anything. I know something that worked for me when I got super stressed. It… still works."

Dick nodded at the memory, seeing in his mind the dark fog hanging over Winter's features at the thought. Even though he had no idea what she'd gone through… if what she did worked, then he was willing to try.

Richard turned the page and a slip of paper tumbled onto his bed. He picked it up and started reading the scrawled print.

 _Hey, Dick._

 _Um… really sorry I didn't get this to you in time. I couldn't get the money together fast enough, but at least this could count as a birthday/Christmas present-_

Richard froze.

His birthday was…

Sixteen days ago when the Joker stabbed him.

"I'm fourteen," Dick heard himself say, his voice unusually steady. "I'm fourteen…"

How had he missed it?

Richard swallowed, his throat surprisingly parched, then continued reading.

 _-if you want. Again, sorry it's late._

 _Believe it or not, this is what helps me out. It's up to you if you actually decide to give it a shot._

 _Merry Early Christmas/Happy Late Birthday,_

 _-Winter_

 _P.S: There's a bookmark with some "anchor" verses in case you need a starting point. And remember, it's never too late for a fresh start, especially with a new year._

 _See you soon!_

Richard smiled. She was the only one who actually remembered his birthday. He really didn't expect Bruce or the team to remember, or even himself.

But Alfred?

Surely he had to have known, right?

Richard thought about it. Alfred had probably been exhausted from patching him up and completely forgot.

But he strangely didn't care.

So what? He was fourteen. Four years from adulthood.

Big deal.

He was still the youngest on the team, the youngest in his grade, and the youngest in this house that he couldn't even force himself to call home.

Richard handled the book with great care flipping through it to find little colorful tabs on the sides of the pages for explanations of the text, a two-page journal section after each book, quotes and pictures-

this had to have been a decent chunk of cash.

Dick felt a little bad that Winter had saved up her money for this, but…

at the same time, he felt so happy.

Maybe this wouldn't work, but he was open to anything.

It felt good not grabbing his blade.

And it also felt good, for the first time in a long time, to feel like he mattered.

Winter's name might be frozen, but she had the warmest heart of anyone yet, even more than his parents (which was hard to top).

And her heart was starting to thaw his.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(December 24th - Haly's Circus)**

"Who knew a martian could be vulnerable to a human virus?"

 _Uh… H. G. Wells?_

"Uh… H. G. Wells?" came the quiet response from Robin as he heard Winter say it through their mind link. He fought the urge to turn around and roll his eyes with a grin.

Artemis frowned, eyeing the youngest member of their group critically.

Ever since Batman pushed them into this mission, he'd been acting strangely.

He was happy.

Well, happier. And Richard hadn't been happy in a long time. He never smiled. He only smirked once in a blue moon.

Even the media took notice, the _Gotham Herald_ blasting the line "Robin: Gone to the Dark Side?" last week after a bank robbery resulted in a now viral video of some of his best fighting yet; the only thing was that he didn't say a single word through the whole fight, just glared through the whole battle for victory over the armed robbers with a scowl that rivaled Batman's.

She shook her head. He was a teenager, and while the team had basically been ignoring his very existence (it helped that he was rarely at the mountain anymore), he was a cocky brat. Probably some rich kid like that Grayson kid at Gotham Academy.

She watched as someone- she wasn't sure who, as Artemis hadn't been paying attention- suggested Haly was responsible for the capers being pulled off from country to country. The results was Robin's pale face (was he still sick?) turning a tinted rose and he struggled not to yell, "I know it's not Haly!" before storming out, the door behind him closing with a bit of a lag, like a breeze held it open.

Superboy rolled his eyes. "What's his problem? Haly could easily be behind this."

Artemis and M'gann nodded, the first of the two silently switching her train of thought to Roy. After all, he'd been called in for this mission, too. Just never showed.

Something was up with Richard…

* * *

…

* * *

Dick slipped past the tents, heading for the group of posters on display.

Winter remained invisible, shivering a little. Even though her modified DNA helped with the cold, the chill was still there; Richard somehow wasn't reacting. She hoped he really was well by now. _Dick, I don't think they mean to accuse him. They don't know him like you do._

 ** _I… I know._ ** Dick kicked a rock; it skidded under the tent and he bit his lip, drawing a tiny dot of blood. **_I just hate that the one thing in my life that didn't change happens to be the one they're blaming for this mess. I HAVE to prove he's innocent…_**

A second of silence from Winter. _I get it. Just try to keep a cool head._ She patted his shoulder. _Did you bring…?_

 _ **Yeah. I… I did.**_ He sighed. **_Bruce saw it._**

Winter turned visible, her blue eyes anxious. _And?_

 _ **He wasn't happy. Bruce isn't open to that kinda stuff. Not with his parents' death and all…**_

Winter nodded. "I understand," she said aloud, looking at the snow covering her shoes. "How mad?"

Richard groaned. "Um, well, he saw the book on my desk and just glared at it." He looked indifferent. For the first time, Winter watched him talk about Bruce like he was a total stranger, like they truly were nothing more at this point than two ships passing in the night. "I don't care. It's my choice. And besides, he already thinks I'm a failure."

"Dick…" Winter smiled sadly. "Is it helping?"

"More than you know." He grinned. "Thanks. I… I have some questions for you, though."

Winter grabbed him in a one armed hug. "I will do my best to answer them. No promises on some things. I'm not all-knowing."

"That's what the internet is for!" Richard joked, laughing.

Winter laughed too, her tired grin growing wider as his laugh bordered on the edge of his classic cackle.

She had been right.

Just a few months ago, she was sure Dick was at the end of his rope, ready to give in to the voices in his memories telling him he just wouldn't measure up.

Now?

Now there was a chance.

A really good chance.

Richard had fought to stay alive this long, and now her faith that he could overcome this battle was stronger than ever. There was still a ways to go in the dark expanse ahead, but if he stumbled along the way, he had her, and his new little book, to pick him up and spur him on.

But Richard wasn't changing back to the way he'd been.

Yeah, the happy, innocent child that traveled around the world under the shelter of his parents' loving hugs was starting to peek through the shroud of depression. And yes, the Robin side of his persona was strongly showcased in how critically he saw the world, analyzing every detail instantly. But Richard was becoming someone totally different. He was slowly shedding Bruce's view that everyone's faults had to be seen first. Instead, the fourteen year old was seeing people's talents and abilities first, and then their errors. And he was able to see and recognize that the world was dark and scary (which he'd sadly experienced firsthand), and also bright and beautiful.

He was becoming a strong, independent individual, whether he knew it or not.

This depression would fade. Winter was sure. True, it wouldn't ever fully fly away, but it wouldn't decide to check in for a prolonged stretch like this ever again.

Not if she could help it.

Winter smiled at Richard, just silently standing beside the kid she'd come to see as her little brother when-

"Dan! Where are you?"

Dick whirled around, Winter fading into oblivion just as Superboy ran up. He was a little ticked. "What are you doing out here?" he demanded, his hot breath visible.

Robin returned, Dick nervously rejoicing on the inside that Winter hid in time. "Just looking around. Trying to find some clues."

Superboy grunted and left.

Richard left out a long breath. "Thank God! Okay, you can re-appear now."

Winter did so, shakily rubbing her throbbing temples. "Good. Now… let's get inside and I'll see if I can answer any of your questions."

Dick had one that he didn't dare to voice just yet…

Had Bruce scouted out this mission as a strange form of Christmas present, so he could see his old family again?

Or was this just Bruce getting his sorry excuse for a "son" out of the house for a week?

He really wanted to know...

* * *

…

* * *

 **(at the end of the mission)**

Christmas at Wayne Manor was…

well, it was.

Alfred made the holiday, which was celebrated a few days late as Bruce was away on business, more festive than ever. Richard arrived back a day earlier than Bruce, and Alfred was overjoyed to see the teenager eating his bodyweight in Christmas goodies.

That same day, Alfred could've sworn he saw a young lady in dreadfully tattered clothes flying up the stairs after a cackling Richard.

But the dutiful butler wrote it off as stressing over the young master.

Bruce brought home presents, and he even dulled down his anger for the day, forcing smiles as Richard opened his presents.

Richard handed Alfred a present; it was a new set of engraved kitchen supplies. Winter helped pick them out, and he was glad for her help.

And for Bruce…

Bruce opened his present and his smile faded.

It wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

Bruce received a hand-carved wooden Gotham City outline with his name etched in the front. A new name-plate for his desk…

It was actually very unique, the intricate carving gleaming under a dark stain.

"Richard," he'd asked at the time, "did you make this?"

Sort of. "Yeah. But I had some help from a friend." Winter had carved it with a Batarang of Richard's. He just added the stain and gold over Bruce's name.

"Thank you," Bruce said, smiling at his ward. "I like it."

Richard's grin was bright enough to burst every light bulb in in city.

Bruce liked something he did!

He actually said it!

* * *

 _-well, now is probably a really good time to point out i was not aware December 1st was Richard's birthday… but hey, it worked really well as a reason for Winter's present!_

 _said it once, said it twice... and i'll say it again: sorry for any typos :( i don't feel so good, but i tried!_

 _the next chapter will probably be late! i'm sorry in advance! December is the busiest time of the year for me (usually), but i'm gonna try my best!_

 _thanks, Misskinny, Adrianna Agray, WildChild13, Silver, Monkeysloveapples, Ulyss, PikaWings, Guest of honor, and a-girl-a-computer-and-a-fandom for the reviews! (sorry if anyone's name is misspelled!)_


	16. Sometimes You Need to Stop

_-i'm late! i'm late! for a very important update! (sorry, guys...)  
_

 _so… last chapter was Christmas! (i LOVE Christmas!) so… next up is New Year's! okay… maybe i have the date wrong for this chapter, but i hope it's close enough. and besides, this is an AU. altered events can happen a day late, right?_

 _well, even if they can't… here's the next chapter!_

 _(remember when reading this that Zatanna never joined the team.)_

* * *

 **(December 31st, 5:00 PM - Mount Justice)**

"We're not gonna beat 'em one on one!"

Superboy heard Robin, but something else aside from the younger sidekick (what? He'd accepted reality!) stating the obvious caught his attention.

He swore that just seconds ago he heard someone say, "Rob, watch-"

but the hallucination of a warning came too late as Batman's fist caught Robin's jaw.

Superboy noticed how… harsh Robin was being. It should be a shock to be fighting his mentor, to have to battle his teacher!

And yet, Robin's face, what of it was visible, had the demeanor of stone. It was like he was used to this. There was no way to not be thrown by the abusive treatment his mind-controlled mentor was beginning to dish out!

So how was Robin just taking this so easily?!

It was maddening!

"Plan B, then," Connor ground out, not quite sure what he was angry at.

There was a number of things:

the fact that Superman had punched M'gann, the fact that they were having to fight their mentors in the first place, and the fact that Robin, if it needed to be said again, was wearing more masks than the one hiding his eyes.

But before he could narrow anything down, Robin looked at him and nodded, just as the two "villains" of this fight swooped down on them.

Superboy just nodded at Robin, and Robin tipped his chin down in response.

They'd talked about this move before… way before when the team had some faith in their little Robin.

Now?

Superboy couldn't help but frown. Was he the only one with a sliver of hope still left? Was he the only one who didn't doubt Robin was capable? (He knew something was up, but addressing personal matters of any kind with others was not his strong point.)

Now… he would find out.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(same time, just POV switch to Robin)**

Robin swallowed heavily.

This move seemed great. In theory.

In reality, this move seemed a bit terrifying. Fun, yes, because he was an acrobat and it'd be stupid for him to hate it. But considering he was using it on Batman…?

Yeah, that wasn't helping matters.

As Superboy grabbed his hand and jumped, he felt his stomach crash against his rib cage, the half-awoken butterflies now unfortunately fluttering about.

He swallowed again, and time felt like it slowed down as Batman was still in the air, his glare glowing with hate. Super boy spun them both once, twice-

 ** _I can do this._**

 ** _I can do this._**

 ** _I can do all things-_**

And the next thing Richard knew was the feeling of catching Bats in the chest as they both collided with the wall.

 ** _-through Christ who gives me strength._**

Even their free fall to the floor seemed slow as Robin applied the patch of, well, he wasn't sure what it was, but it was supposed to help… to his unconscious guardian's neck. He was a bit concerned. Did he hurt Batman? He really didn't want to, but what other option was he left with?

He rushed over to Superboy, time finally beginning to catch up with his adrenaline-fueled senses. "You sure about this?" he asked, reaching for his belt already.

Superboy's cry of "Just do it!" had him grabbing the box from his belt, and hastily unlatching the lid-

and both heroes sank to the floor, weakened by the kryptonite inside.

Richard quickly applied the same patch-thingy to Superman and felt the world spin.

Okay, so maybe he had good reason for not knowing exactly what he was using to treat the Justice League's mind-control mayhem, but he hoped it worked.

Something felt… off, though.

It was more than exhaustion from last night…

it was like… like he felt ill.

It was that feeling he got when the Joker showed up, swirled around with a handful of nauseous stomach flips, and topped with a mental alarm bell ringing endlessly, despite his monstrosity of a headache.

After stashing the green rock of doom away, Robin helped Superboy stand. Superboy just grinned enough to show he was thankful for the help, then turned away to check on M'gann.

Robin sighed, the feeling starting to dissolve at a slow rate. What was that?! It was like…

like something was here that still didn't belong.

 _Dick? You okay?_

Richard rolled his shoulders, wincing at the bruises he felt forming. **_Yeah… Winter, you don't sound good._**

 _Um… what was this tech again?_

 ** _Some cross of tech and sorcery. Why?_**

Winter sighed over the link. _That would explain a lot…_

Richard started approaching the still form of Batman. _**Hey, did you feel weird at all when I was getting my butt kicked?**_

 _Yeah, still am. And for the record, you won, so technically you didn't get your butt kicked._

 _Tell me that after these bruises heal._ Dick smirked ruefully and knelt by Batman, looking at where he'd placed the chip. He hoped they'd done their job…

* * *

…

* * *

 **(December 31st, 8:03 PM - Mount Justice)**

"They didn't work?!"

Every League member who'd been affected was standing by the holographic readout of the results from using the chips.

Apparently…

none of them had worked.

Batman was glaring. More than usual. "The Starro-tech was cancelled out, but not by these."

J'onn nodded, standing right behind Batman. "I sense a presence behind this."

"What do you mean?" someone else asked; Batman assumed it was Flash. His back felt horrible, and after seeing the security footage he knew why.

"Someone used… well, I do not know what. But they overloaded the Starro-tech from Cadmus. It shut down the programs."

"So… no mind control?" Okay, that actually was Flash now.

Martian Manhunter nodded. "Correct. But the presence associated with this is… It causes pain to attempt to connect with it."

Batman frowned. What could've done this? "It wasn't your niece?"

"She does not cause mental anguish when we communicate telepathically. It is not her."

Everyone fell silent, relieved the threat was over, but anxious over not knowing how it came to be over.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(that night, still at Mount Justice (okay, basically it's midnight, so it's the start of the New Year))**

Kaldur smiled slightly at what he was seeing. This was one "above water" custom he was confused on, but in light of the rest of the day's events… it was the only thing that made any sort of sense.

He was standing near the rest of his team. Kid Flash and Artemis (not surprisingly… how long had they been dating again?) were kissing. So were M'gann and Connor, which was what they were usually doing wherever they were. The other four members of his group looked happy, and lovestruck, but happy.

Wait… four?

Kaldur's smile twisted into a thin line of concern. Where… was Robin?

He looked around the room and quickly found their youngest member, who was sitting on the only intact couch, all alone. His legs were tucked up by his chest, his chin on his knee. His uniform was scuffed, his cape was torn, and… was that blood trickling down from under his hair?!

Superboy and M'gann had come up for air and Superboy smiled at her before catching Kaldur's pointed look at the couch.

Why was Robin sitting alone?

His face had a bruise running over his forehead and stopping its purple rush just before reaching his left eye. Another bruise was painted a vivid brown on his chin. There were undoubtedly more under his suit.

Their tiny, bumbling acrobat looked smaller than usual. Superboy didn't think it was normal for a human to lose weight like Robin had, but he trained constantly, eliminating any possible weight gain. And eliminating any fat, apparently…

But what struck both team members was Robin's expression.

He was… just there.

Staring off into space, both almost jumped as his head turned and looked to his left. Robin looked down at the floor and remained like that. Kaldur figured he had to say something, at least ask Robin if he needed medical attention. "R-"

But Wally cut him off by throwing an arm over their leader's shoulders and announcing, "Hey, Kal! Come on, it's the new year! Don't tell me you aren't excited!"

Kaldur wasn't sure what he said in response, but soon enough he was caught up in their makeshift celebration. He didn't notice that an hour had passed until he looked at the couch, only to find it empty.

Robin had left?

Kaldur sighed and turned away from the abandoned couch. He didn't know how to feel…

but he was exhausted. They all were.

And Kaldur felt only a little guilt eating away at his stomach at the fact that Robin had been alone.

Again...

* * *

 _-okay. so… with a ton of villains gone (courtesy of me putting them all in comas in the first chapter), the tech used to control the Justice League is from another branch of Cadmus. or we'll just say it is. they had a lot of connections before the timeline even starts, so they probably had their hands on sorcery information. that's believable, right?_

 _hopefully that wasn't as crappy as i thought... life is just... being a pain. let's say that._

 _Top of the World will be updated soon! i promise!_

 _sorry for any typos :(_

 _thanks, Sairey13, speedking535, Misskinny, a-girl-a-computer-and-a-fandom, Sparkle9510, Guest of honor, and WildChild13 for reviewing! :) (sorry if i messed up anyone's name!)_


	17. And Go Back

_-um... hi?_

 _sorry for the long wait! my Christmas break had... some unexpected events. and now with break being over, i'm getting pounded by finals._

 _i'm exhausted. :( but hey, i got a new chapter together!_

 _last chapter... New Year's celebrations (and lack thereof)._

 _yep. that was basically it._

 _so... lotta tension ahead. and action. and angst. (in the story overall, not all in this chapter)  
_

 _oh, this oughta be a blast._

 _(warnings: self harm is mentioned)_

* * *

 **(January 5th, 10:23 AM - Gotham Academy)**

Mr. Charles wrote the last set of notes on the board, sighing as his head throbbed. He turned to greet his next class, all of the uniforms shuffling in and chattering about their Christmas break.

All except one.

Richard just smiled slightly to himself and sat in his desk. Mr. Charles was silently glad; that child didn't smile much anymore...

He cleared his throat. "Welcome back, class. I hope you remembered to complete the packet I assigned to you?"

A loud chorus of groans, grunts, and expletives rang out. "Please pass your papers up to the front."

As he stepped forward to collect the papers, Mr. Charles swore he'd seen a dark blur rush past his door.

But he wrote it off as stress and just gathered the papers.

* * *

 **(just a POV switch to Richard)**

Dick smiled to himself as he handed up his test. He was sure he'd managed at least a 90.

His head had been clearer lately. Winter was helping him so much. He…

He gulped and stared a hole to China through his desk, trying to get the lump of painful nostalgia down. Richard really didn't want to know where he'd be without Winter. She was practically, if he was honest with himself and despite his hesitant reaction to attachments, a sister to him.

After alcohol and stress had driven a wedge between Bruce and himself, Dick was beginning to question a lot. But now it wasn't if he was going to make it to see the end of another day.

The question was if their relationship could ever be healed.

The wounds Bruce left were still stinging, even if they were over a year old.

Richard was sure, though, that he was in the wrong at some point. He knew there were times he shouldn't have snapped at Bruce, letting his own temper get the better of him. He didn't know how to apologize. Not now. Not to Bruce. Bruce would just laugh in his face. And he knew it was truly his decision to pick up the blade that first time. He didn't choose his circumstances; he chose how he coped.

And now...

he had scars that would never fade. Not entirely.

But, as Richard pulled the edge of his jacket down, exposing to only his eyes where three scars overlapped, he smiled slightly. He was moving on. He was getting better. And these scars would only serve to show him down the road what he'd managed to overcome, because the world was far too scary and dark of a place to not drag some under.

Dick quickly fixed his blazer sleeve and pulled a pencil from his pocket. He was looking forward to today's lesson. For the first time in a long time...

Plus, good old Brent was absent. Hooray for flu season.

Mr. Charles started teaching, and Richard was immersed in the newest knowledge he was getting, jotting down notes, completing the sample problems with ease, getting a start on the homewo-

"FREEZE!"

The classroom door slammed open, five armed men stepping into the room, one facing the hall. All were armed with machine guns, and all were dressed in black, faces hidden under masks. A couple of students cringed away in fright and the biggest of the burly mob screamed, "I said FREEZE!" He drew a knife from his belt and his voice sounded like that of a sadistic smirk. "Sit there and shut up!"

As he spoke, one man rushed through Richard's row and Dick involuntarily froze as one of the lunatics stopped behind him.

They were kidnappers.

Here for him.

Richard swallowed and remained frozen, staring at the top of his desk, at the notes scrawled over his notebook pages. He hoped, prayed, that this was a dream, that this wasn't really happening-

but as another one rushed over and the first to reach Richard asked, "This him?" he knew it was real, and it was him they were after.

The newer arrival nodded. "Yes. Grab him." The first man grabbed Richard's arms and pulled him down to the floor as the second pointed his gun at Richard's face, only an inch or two away. Without a word Richard's hands were wrapped with several rounds of duct tape, and a piece was slapped roughly over his mouth. He could feel the adhesive tearing at his already chapped lips, and his wrists were throbbing from how tightly pulled the tape was.

But there was nothing he could do. This was a hostage situation, and Dick Grayson wasn't supposed to possess the skills of a impressive acrobatic crimefighter. Or any skills of use...

Other students could get hurt.

If they just took him and left, then maybe only he was at risk.

Pulled to his feet, Richard almost fell into one of the men's chests, unable to get his bearings for a second. Both grabbed his arms, the one still aiming the gun at his head. The one who appeared to be the ringleader, still in the front of the room, handed a note to the shaking teacher. "Give this to Wayne." And before anyone could blink, the men rushed from the room, one firing a round into the ceiling as a send-off.

The terrified class had no idea how to react, and neither did Richard.

He had, however, seen one brave girl pull out her phone when he was grabbed, 911 flashing on the screen in silent mode.

But the cops couldn't help now. Gordon couldn't.

And...

Winter couldn't.

Richard's head hung as he was half-dragged from the property and promptly tossed into a car trunk, the hood slamming down on his head. At least, that's what it sounded like.

One tear ran down his face in the dark trunk and Dick sighed in despair.

The one day he forgets to grab his earpiece...

He was completely cut off now.

* * *

...

* * *

 **(January 5th, 12:02 PM - Some Random Place...)**

The car had stopped.

The men had gotten out.

The goons had opened the trunk-

and their precious bargaining chip was unconscious.

The one, none too gently, reefed the last Grayson's limp form from the car and plopped him on the ground in a shuffled heap. Partially on his side, they could all detect the trail of blood coming from somewhere on the back of his head.

"That one bump knocked 'im out?" one slurred, slamming the trunk shut.

Their leader nodded once. "Apparently so. Just get him in the room and secure him."

No one bothered with checking the injury. Instead, the limp teenager was dragged into a side room and bound with more duct tape to a chair. The chair was bolted to the floor, his ankles being placed along the rough edges of the metal bolts and duct tape being wound up until it reached halfway up his shin. If Wayne's ward tried to move his legs, the sharp bolts would cut into his skin, and it wouldn't take much at all for that to happen.

His hands were wrenched behind his back and re-taped together. A couple twists of tape strapped his back against the chair, and a blindfold was tied too tightly over his closed eyes.

The men all stared at their hostage with sickening smiles... torture wasn't mentioned in the orders from their boss...

a little roughhousing couldn't hurt.

One stepped closer to Richard, pulling gruffly on his hair so his head wasn't drooping, his chin not connecting with his chest. "He look a little scrawny to you guys?"

"Yeah," the one closest to the door bellowed. "Looks like a twig."

"Wayne not feedin' his kid?" a third scoffed, chuckling hoarsely, the result of thirty years of smoking echoing in his voice.

The first one to speak growled, "Maybe we won't get nothin' for this brat."

"If not..." one man who'd been quiet till now spoke up, "we can always have our own fun with him. He's just Wayne's bedwarmer after all."

"Probably all he knows, little gypsy freak."

Richard's head was dropped back down and the man standing over him belted him across the face with the back of his hand, Richard's right cheek and chin stinging with the pink hue of an inevitable bruise. The captors left and locked the door shut, all muttering the horrific things they thought their precious little possession would be... useful for.

* * *

...

* * *

 **(same random place, around 5:30 PM)**

Dick's eyes opened to nothing.

Or... was he blind?

Even though that thought should've been a trigger for panic mode, Dick was oddly calm. Like... his body couldn't respond.

He felt out of it. He felt pain, and he felt sick, and he felt like throwing up.

But his lips didn't want to separate, so if he did vomit, the horrendous bile had nowhere to go.

So he hoped that didn't happen.

Every inch of him hurt. Except his head. That... felt oddly numb. Almost. There was a nagging pain, just a tug. But that was all.

What...

He didn't even know what had happened.

Entirely disoriented and overcome by pain, Richard groaned. Something slammed open, someone cursed, and his chin was grabbed roughly.

And then he gagged.

The tape was torn off, bringing more pain, and he wasn't sure where the vomit went, but the same voice cursed again, a colorful string of soap-in-the-mouth words echoing in what sounded like a tin can.

As Richard gasped for air, his head was forced back and something cold and metallic was pressed against his lips, water rushing into his mouth. With no chance to swallow, the water was spat up, and he coughed, the taste of bile starting to dissipate as he grimaced. The water returned, and he was able to swallow.

Someone spoke again, and Richard's head was left go. The tape wasn't replaced, not yet. He didn't want it to be; he felt his lung clicking. Wheezing...

not good.

Finally, the overwhelming words around him were fully distinguishable as someone tapped his face with sandpaper fingers. "Kid? Come on. Snap out of it."

"He just threw up on Marcus. Stop smackin' 'im. Might barf on you next."

"Get that blindfold off him. Check his eyes."

Something was pulled off from around his eyes and Dick blinked, wincing as light took over. He gasped again, not sure what he was seeing.

Another curse. "Pupils are screwed up. Kid's got a concussion."

"Doesn't matter. Wayne's got our demands."

"See if he's coherent. Grayson?"

Grayson... that was his name, right? Yeah... no... he wasn't sure. Richard felt his mouth open and close, but no words escaped.

A resounding smack sent his head flying into his shoulder. "Kid!"

"That did NOT help."

"I said before it don't matter. If Wayne pays up, the kid's free and'll get the best stinkin' treatment money can buy."

"True..."

Wayne... Bruce? They'd called Bruce? Or something? No, they gave that note to his teacher, right? He didn't even know.

Wait...

Richard groaned, the only truly coherent thought he could muster being the cause.

He was being held for ransom.

Another slap sent his mind into chaos, nothing making any sense as the blindfold returned. Someone laughed, or screamed, or something that Dick didn't catch. Then something slammed, he flinched-

and the injured fourteen year old fell unconscious.

* * *

...

* * *

 **(January 6th, 4:55 PM - a new random place)**

Five minutes.

Bruce had five minutes.

The demands had been simple, the note burning a hole in Jim Gordon's pocket at the station.

 ** _$5 million transferred to the following account by 5 P.M. tomorrow. That's 24 hours, Wayne. If you don't... you can guess what happens next. Your little brat will be left at the following coordinates. Don't show up there beforehand, or you'll be trying to piece him back together.  
_**

Bruce had gotten the money together easily, notifying Gordon immediately. The commissioner was pulling every string possible to get that money moved in time. New restrictions on bank transfers had them scrambling.

Bruce got out of his car, choosing a less flashy vehicle; his grey 'Vette's clock ticked as he stepped from the car.

Four minutes.

The billionaire cursed under his breath. "C'mon, Gordon..." this HAD to work. They were running out of time. He had to get Richard back.

As he waited, every second tearing at his wavering mental stability, Bruce realized he hadn't had a drink in two days, not since getting the call about Richard from his school...

but he'd definitely need something after this ordeal.

He checked his watch.

Three minutes.

The transfer needed to happen. And it needed to happen now. These maniacs were probably well aware of the new bank procedures. They had to know Bruce would be cutting it close.

That meant they grabbed Richard for more than just ransom... they probably had other plans if the money wasn't in time...

Bruce's empty stomach churned at the thought.

His phone beeped and Bruce pulled it from his pocket, fumbling to turn the display on.

 **TRANSFER COMPLETE.**

Bruce sighed in relief, then turned and looked around. He didn't even observe where he was... he was too worried.

There was... nothing here.

Nothing but fields.

Tall, overgrown, unending fields.

His phone beeped again and Bruce saw it was Jim Gordon calling. "Yeah?" Man, he sounded shaky. He'd definitely need a drink after this.

"They called in to the station. Money made it safely. The kid is at the coordinates listed. " Gordon sighed. "Bruce, they left him there overnight. Where... where are you?"

Bruce spun around again, eyeing everything. No trees, no shelter, just blinding light from the sun and a foot of melting snow and sludge. "I'm standing on a road."

"Okay, that could be anywhere-"

"It's between two massive fields."

Jim cursed on the other end. "It went below twenty degrees last night, Bruce. I'll have an ambulance meet you there."

Bruce nodded. "Thanks." He hurriedly hung up and stuffed his phone back in his pocket, wrapping his thick coat around his disheveled suit. He glanced around again.

Where would they have dumped Richard?

Bruce frowned. The snow looked untouched, except for where dead weeds poked out from their icy blanket.

That didn't mean...

They wouldn't have...

That meant the men who took Dick had abandoned him out here before the snowfall. He had to be found immediately.

"Richard?" Bruce started to call at the top of his lungs, rushing through the snow and slipping more than once. "Richard!" He searched the entire upper field, calling for his ward and trying not to slip and fall.

Nothing.

Bruce sprinted across the road and began tearing up the second half of the field, instead shouting, "Dick! Where are you?" He was running full force across the field when he tripped over something.

Quickly climbing back to his feet, Bruce turned-

a rock.

A blasted rock.

His throat hurt, his eyes stung, and Bruce was trying to remain calm. The latter wasn't working as his running became sloppy and his shouts were muted by the growing lump in his throat. "D-" he stumbled, coughing as the cold, biting air aggravated his already worn throat. "Dick! Please!"

Bruce stood still, not even daring to shift his feet in the freezing snow for fear it would crunch and drown out any noise. He listened...

a groan.

"Dick?"

Another weak groan.

To his left. That noise was coming from the left.

Bruce nearly fell in his haste and skidded to a stop at the sight.

A small figure, covered in a fine layer of crusted ice and snow, lay at Bruce's feet. Several pink stains dripped through the surviving snow, and the body's only reaction to anything was to shiver. A thick round of duct tape held their chalk white hands behind their back, painfully cutting off circulation. Another piece of duct tape was slapped across their mouth, another trickle of blood coming from under the adhesive. One eye was painted deep blue and tinged with putrid green. Several scratches dotted scabs of dark red over their face and neck. The ice forming in their dark hair blended with the bed of snow they had been dumped in.

Bruce could barely believe this thin bundle of bones was Richard.

"Dick?" Bruce inquired softly, trying to rouse him. He gently lifted Richard's head enough to look for injuries, and grimaced at finding he most likely had a concussion. As gently as possible the duct tape on his mouth was pulled away; skin from his chapped lips still pulled off with the tape, more blood appearing. Bruce moved on to the wad of tape binding Richard's hands. "Dick, can you hear me?"

A weak groan and a wince in reply.

Bruce sighed. Richard looked like he'd been starved...

But he hadn't. He couldn't have lost this much weight in so little time.

Maybe he'd been caught up in his studies? Or with training? Bruce knew he'd have to get Richard's weight up. Maybe a growth spurt was coming. Even a few pounds would help.

"Dick, please. Wake up." The famous playboy was reduced to pleading now as sirens sounded in the distance. He needed Richard's eyes to open, just some sort of reassurance...

"Hmm..." Richard moaned, trying to curl in on himself as his teeth chattered.

Wanting to slap himself for forgetting about the cold, Bruce ripped off his thick coat and draped it over his shivering ward. "Richard?"

Bruce expected Richard to mumble for comfort from someone. Himself, his parents, Alfred, once it had been Wally...

but Bruce wasn't prepared for what Richard said as his eyes fluttered open.

"... W-win... Winter?" came the feeble word, Richard's voice hoarse and grating.

Bruce was puzzled. "Yeah, chum," he used the rare nickname, gently patting Dick's shoulder. "It's winter." Was Richard trying to make sense of the cold?

"N-no... w-where's Winter? S-she's nice..."

Bruce's eyes went wide as Richard's slipped shut, just as the ambulance roared up and the medics rushed through the field. "How long ago did you find him, Mr. Wayne?" one asked, helping one of her co-workers lower a stretcher to the ground.

"Not even five minutes ago." Bruce backed away slightly, just enough so the team could work.

Jim Gordon ran up as well, his car parked behind Bruce's. "Bruce! How-" he gasped. "Goodness..." Both watched in tense silence as Richard was gently moved to the stretcher, one medic rambling off the injuries they'd found so far. "Three cracked ribs, severe concussion, possible whiplash, and he's dehydrated. His pulse is way too low."

"What about hypothermia?" another medic asked.

"We just have to get him warm. Somehow he's still alive, and his fingers have no sign of frostbite. Not saying much for his feet though. We'll check later. C'mon!"

The team loaded their unconscious patient into the ambulance and Bruce hopped in with them, watching numbly as they worked.

Who...

who was Winter?

Bruce knew Richard was no stranger to kidnappings. This was what, the fifth one? As a civilian? (Including as Robin, um, that totaled over thirty...)

As soon as they reached the hospital Dr. Leslie Thompkins showed up, taking charge of Richard's care. That eased Bruce's nerves a little. After over an hour of care, she appeared, looking as exhausted as he felt. "He'll be alright. This was..." she lowered her voice as several pairs of eyes were trained on the now standing Bruce Wayne, "... relatively mild compared to his usual injuries. He's resting. Somehow- good Lord only knows- there's no damage from being exposed to the cold so long. The other injuries..." she handed Bruce her clipboard. "They might take some time."

Bruce paled at the list. "Is he awake?"

The doctor shook her head. "No. He's asleep. He'll probably be clear to take home tomorrow night. His room's this way..."

As they walked, Leslie glanced around and whispered, "Bruce, he's underweight."

"I know."

"He's 94 pounds."

Bruce stopped. "Wha... he's what?"

The doctor repeated herself. "Now I know you two engage in extra-cirricular activities, Bruce, but he's nothing but muscle. You're lucky I was the only one treating him. He needs to at least get back to 100 pounds. 110 would be great."

A dumb nod from Bruce. Richard was...

was way too small.

Bruce didn't know what to say. "Can I see him?"

A minute later and Bruce was pulling a chair over to the edge of Richard's hospital bed. Everything was stark white...

he felt intimidated by the walls.

Bruce squirmed in the seat a moment, stilling as Richard groaned. The oxygen mask over his face was fogged as he took shallow breaths. Every cut, scrape, bruise, and bandage was accented by his pale skin, the color only beginning to return to his greyed skin.

There were bandages wrapped about Richard's tiny wrists. Bruce frowned and gently touched the one over his right hand in order to not disturb the IV drip in his ward's left wrist. Bruce just assumed it was from the tape, irritation or something of the kind, and he relaxed, watching Dick's face carefully for any sign of pain. In sleep, Richard's face looked relaxed, a sharp contrast to his usual expression.

Bruce sighed. "I'm right here, Dick," he said softly. "I'm not leaving." Another sigh left Bruce's lips and he could've sworn Richard stiffened even in his deep slumber as he muttered, "I really need a drink."

* * *

 _-that was harder to write than i expected. so... i hope it was okay!_

 _sorry for any typos :( not feeling well :(_

 _so... anyone think Bruce is going to change now? or will he go back to the way things were before?_

 _thanks, ColleenIsOurQueen, a-girl-a-computer-and-a-fandom, Misskinny, Nightwingsass, Guest of honor, Belbuvian16, Jasonisgayjs, and Sairey13 for reviewing! :)_


	18. Just to Carry On

_-i… am so sorry! :(_

 _between the new semester kicking my butt, feeling like crap (healthwise… yeah, i'm not doing so well), working on art projects, and honestly not being sure why i'm so easily aggravated anymore… i just haven't had any drive to really write. i was just going to leave an author's note, but i figured i owed you guys this for waiting so long._

 _lots of awesome questions and guesses last chapter! (recap: Richard got kidnapped, Bruce actually cared, and... everyone was wondering where Winter was.)_

 _i'm not telling you yet where she was. that's... for another time._

 _this chapter... um, well... just read it. i really don't know how to explain what's going to happen. (but Barry will be in it! just imagine he looks like the CW's version)_

 _(warnings: self harm mentioned)_

* * *

 **(Jaunary 8th, 4:13 PM - Mount Justice)**

"Recognized, Flash-"

Barry didn't take the time to listen as the computer announced his arrival. He'd just got done with fighting Captain Cold, and after getting a hit from the cold gun and running for what felt like years, he was starving.

Literally. He was ready to pass out.

So the scarlet speedster rushed to the kid's kitchen, swinging open the fridge door and grabbing up anything in sight. The box of half-finished pizza, a pack of bologna, steamed broccoli, an egg- no, he put that back; the egg was raw-

"Will this help?"

The Flash stopped and looked up at a pack of energy bars; he'd run out yesterday and didn't get to grab more off Batman, who kept them in abundant supply. He looked up past the offering hand and smiled, swallowing the last olive from the jar he'd just downed. "Hey, Dick."

Richard stood in front of him, glasses covering his eyes but missing the bruises and bandages. Barry knew what had happened just three days ago. The whole League knew.

And it was sad to think that only him and Superman had expressed concern.

No, the other Leaguers were worried. But admittedly, they were worried more or less for appearance's sake. For secret identities' sake.

After the team expressed some concerns with his position on the team, the other superheroes were beginning to doubt him. And now...

Looking at Richard's battered face, Barry's smiled flipped. "Kiddo, you look horrible. Sit down."

He took the box of energy bars and sat them on the counter, pushing Robin onto one of the high kitchen chairs. The fourteen year old's face was a bit sunken, and his blue sweatshirt and dark skinny jeans were hanging off him. He was swaying a little. "Are you supposed to be here?"

Dick nodded. "Yeah." Barry winced with him. His voice sounded like gravel. The tired child cleared his throat and spoke again, this time much clearer. "There's a training exercise today. I've missed too much time as it is."

"I doubt they'll mind if you're recovering. Dick, you were just kidnapped-"

"Not for the first time," Richard cut in.

"-and you're injured-"

"not critically-"

"-and you look like crap."

Richard sighed. "I know. But it's just a little pain. Nothing I can't handle." He mumbled something under his breath that sounded like "nothing I haven't handled before", but Barry couldn't be sure.

"Dick..." he shrugged. "It's up to you. But be careful, alright? As your almost uncle, PLEASE, don't get hurt! If Bats won't tell you that, then I will. Stupid emotionless rock..."

Robin chuckled. "Don't worry. I'll be fine. It's just a relaxing thing. I don't know what exactly it is- no one said anything other than relaxing..."

"Maybe it's SLEEPING. You could definitely use more of that." Barry pulled off his mask, looking over Richard again with concerned eyes. "And more food."

Richard glanced around, then pulled off his glasses, revealing more damage beneath. "I know. I'm just not hungry. Not with the injuries and all." He honestly wasn't. What little soup Alfred forced into him he'd thrown up. And he was secretly glad Leslie hadn't informed anyone other than Bruce about his eating habits.

And... his cuts.

She'd noticed. He knew she noticed. The way she treated him before he left the hospital showed it. The way she glanced at his wrists... she knew.

And she just smiled sadly at him.

Leslie was smart enough to know the cuts were old, that they were healing. She'd thankfully, and silently, promised to keep quiet about that too.

He felt bad about it, but at the moment he was still in too much pain to really care.

Barry couldn't shake the feeling that something was up with Richard. He'd seen a lot of people who were hiding things; he was in the C.S.I. department for crying out loud! "Are you sure you're up to this?"

DIck nodded. "Yeah. I... I'm fine. See ya, Barry."

As Richard left, Barry looked down, his appetite gone.

Dick always called him "Uncle Barry"... even if he wasn't, Dick had known him as that for years.

Barry sighed. "I need to talk to Bruce... or Clark. Probably Clark. Stinkin' cold-blooded Bruce..."

* * *

…

* * *

Dick headed for the training room, but as soon as he entered something felt off. Something was screaming that this was wrong, that he shouldn't go in, shouldn't venture past the steel doors.

But instead of listening to the nagging voice of foreshadowing in his head, Robin squared his aching shoulders, cleared his sandpaper throat, and adjusted his glasses because he was absolutely positive they were sitting crooked on his face.

And he limped in.

The other five team members were just casually chatting. Well, until he appeared. All talk stopped and the only sound was the echo of a yoga mat smacking off the floor from where Kid Flash had dropped it.

Kaldur smiled at first. "Robin-" but cut his greeting and grin short instead, saying, "are you sure you are up to this?"

Robin nodded. "Yeah, I… I am." He slipped his hands back into his pockets and fought for a straight face.

He felt sick…

He felt the exact same feeling as when they fought the mind-controlled Leaguers…

 _"Remember that feeling you had when we were fighting the Justice League?"_

 _"Yeah."_

 _"If you ever are in a situation where you feel like that again, get away from it. That's a distinct feeling, Richard. Don't think you're stronger than it, because you aren't."_

 _"But what is that feeling? Why does… why did I feel like I was about to throw up? And the chills? And just the feeling of dread… what was that?"_

 _"The dark side. And no, I'm not trying to be funny."_

Richard gulped. "What's the exercise?"

Artemis had sat down on her green (oh, how fitting) mat. "We're going to do some relaxation practice. M'gann will be entering our minds to dampen any feelings of anxiety while we do some stretches. And then we'll all meditate… didn't Batman run this by you?"

Um… no.

 _Richard looked around, hearing Winter's fingers skim over the pages of his beloved book, the Bible resting in her gloved palms._

 _"This, Dick, is your lifeline. Here… try this."_

Wally snorted as he walked over to Richard. "What's wrong? Afraid you'll show us all up with your acrobatics?" he sneered, crossing his arms and slowly beginning to circle Robin. He took in every bruise and cut and just kept running his mouth. "Or did the big bad bullies knock that talent outta you, too?"

No one said a word.

Richard felt the feeling building, Wally's words not helping.

 _"Here… read this."_

He took a deep breath and looked up directly at Wally. "What did I ever do to you?" he asked softly, swallowing what felt like a monstrous shard of glass.

Wally glared, and the next words off his spitfire tongue were out of anger and something else no one could quite catch. "What did you ever do to me?! What about the team! You're the deadweight! You show up, and things go wrong! You want to look good to the League, so you pull these stunts that nearly get us all killed! What is wrong with you?"

Every word felt like daggers piercing his pounding heart, and… was the room spinning?

 _"Okay… 'A final word: Be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power.'"_

Dick bit the inside of his lip as Wally twisted the bitter blade further by shouting, "Why don't you just go HOME?! Go and cry to your mommy and daddy. Maybe they'll want their screw-up back."

 _"'Put on all of God's armor so that you will be able to stand firm against all strategies of the devil. For we are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places.'"_

M'Gann gasped at the spike of emotions in the room. Conner growled and moved to protect her, but from what he didn't know. And Artemis and Kaldur, who had both been seated on the floor, stood, waiting to intervene.

Wally's words were harsh, but…

everyone had a hard time finding him to be entirely in the wrong.

 _"'Therefore, put on every piece of God's armor so you will be able to resist the enemy in the time of evil. Then after the battle you will still be standing firm.'"_

Richard's fists curled closed. Wally…

Wally knew that was a sore subject! He knew!

And yet…

It felt like his heart had been ripped out, stomped on, and them run over by a Semi. Richard cringed, flinching away from the team.

And… they did nothing?!

He wanted to smack himself. Of course they wouldn't do anything. They didn't know about his parents, about him being an orphan, about being adopted by a too busy billionaire.

 _"'Stand your ground, putting on the belt of truth and the body armor of God's righteousness.'"_

Richard closed his eyes behind his glasses; the team watched, wondering if he'd speak. He hadn't said anything, but he looked like he was torn. Wally's comment hadn't been that heinous… right?

M'gann went to reach out mentally to Robin, but her mind was thrown back from their link by a solid wall of pure light. She gasped again and fell backwards into Conner's arms. Conner supported her and helped her to stand as the silence was drawn out.

 _"'For shoes, put on the peace that comes from the Good News so that you will be fully prepared. In addition to all of these, hold up the shield of faith to stop the fiery arrows of the devil. Put on salvation as your helmet…'"_

Richard took a deep breath and opened his eyes. His shielded blue irises met Wally's orbs of green head on.

 _"'…and take the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.'"_

 _"Dick, these are tools you need. The Justice League toys with witchcraft. I know saying it's dangerous sounds like I'm just being a jerk, but-"_

 _"I know what you mean. It… it's like the League uses witchcraft to cross between the lines. Some actions they justify with its use, with spells and sorcery…"_

 _"Darkness cannot beat darkness. It can't defeat it, cage it, or disarm it. Only light can. In a world with aliens and metahumans and billionaires in capes, the only absolute superpower anyone can have… is what arms and protects your heart. Darkness can't stand the light. Remember that."_

Strong… light… get away…

That was the order he needed right now.

Richard's long-awaited reply was soft-spoken.

"I'll be praying for you, Wally… I hope the exercise goes well."

Richard was shocked at his peaceful tone. Had he really said something… while being calm?!

Woah.

Wally snorted. "Pray? You believe that crap? Oh yeah, I'll send my prayers and tears up to an imaginary dude in a cloud! And he answers! That's logical!" He didn't notice Richard eyeing the deep bruise on his forearm. Those marks looked a lot like fingers...

Dick shrugged. "It's kept me alive this long. Maybe one day you can debate the subject with my parents."

And he left.

The team stood in shock as the door closed, Robin disappearing past its thick frame. Wally was teeming with anger at first. The nerve of Richard! _"Maybe one day you can debate the matter with my parents."_ Wally was infuriated! He-

Oh no.

Kid Flash paled, shaking his head. "Oh man, I so can't believe I said that!"

Was that it? Was Richard acting weird because of his parents? He bottled up everything, repressed it…

maybe the emotions were throwing him off.

But that still didn't explain his mistakes…

or did it?

Wally didn't voice any of this, but as he touched his arm and winced, he glared at the door once more.

He had his own problems to handle. If Richard was struggling with his parents' death, then let him. He was a Bat for crying out loud. The worst thing that could happen was the teenager turn into a mini Batman.

The team took a moment to re-center as M'gann was now fighting off a severe headache. "Okay… let's get started…"

* * *

…

* * *

Richard collapsed against his room's door the second it clicked shut.

He wasn't crying. Not yet.

He was just drained.

He'd been reading that book, studying it, memorizing it…

and had he said the right thing?

Dick sighed and tore off his glasses, flinging them onto his drab sheeted bed. His blue eyes were finally regaining their spark, the vivid blue he tried to hide so desperately because Batman said to. Ordered to. Demanded, yelled it…

whatever the wording…

Richard knew the reason why he really did it. Whether Bruce ordered it or not, he wanted to protect his "father". What even was Bruce to him now?

That thought scared him.

He shivered and coughed, his throat coated in a thick layer of biting fire ants. Dick swallowed, gagging again.

"Here."

He looked up at the voice and grinned slightly. He took the water bottle from the hand offering and hastily chugged half of it down, his ribs regretting their owner's decision.

Winter knelt beside him. "So… how'd it go?"

Richard shrugged. "I don't… I don't honestly know." He closed his eyes. "I'm not going to get everything perfect, am I?"

"No." Winter shook her head and smiled slightly. "And I still don't. Rome wasn't built in a day."

Dick snorted, muttering, "You make it sound like I'm some masterpiece."

"You are. Everyone is, Dick. Sometimes we try…" she pulled her knees to her chest, frowning a little. "We try to alter ourselves to fit in. We make choices that re-write our future plans. We trip, we fall, we break. God helps us get pieced back together or chiseled where we thought add-ons were needed. He sculpts us a little everyday. We're not complete until our time is up."

Richard smirked. "So… I'm a very "work in progress" piece?"

Winter grinned. "You and me both." And with a gentle one-armed hug, both sat on the floor, talking about little things and just enjoying some peace.

* * *

 _-sorry for any typos! :(_

 _the scripture is from Ephesians 6:10-18._

 _thanks for reading/reviewing/whatever you do! i'm sorry if the next chapter winds up being just as late. :( i really appreciate all your reviews and support!_

 _God bless!_


	19. Sometimes the Only Way

_-happy Resurrection Sunday, guys! :) or happy Easter! :) (whatever you prefer is fine. :)_

 _okay, let's just establish that i'm a horrible person. i'm so sorry, guys. i wanted to write so badly, but i couldn't. (i haven't been doing so well…)_

 _last chapter: how do you describe that? well, Wally did something stupid (but there's a reason why… whoever started the abused!Wally thing… why did you do this to me?), and Richard stood his ground, and Winter showed up like usual._

 _this time? i'll just say this: if you hated Bruce before, you'll be wanting to throw him off the nearest cliff. (and I might have the date wrong… so please let me know and i'll fix it!)_

 _also... sorry for any typos! i proofed this quickly because i really wanted to post it before i left for church!_

* * *

 **(March 31st, 11:43 PM - Wayne Manor)**

Richard wanted to throw up.

And not because of Bruce.

As he peeled off his domino mask and started pulling off his Robin costume, he sighed. If there was one villain he wouldn't mind pushing off a cliff, it was the Joker…

Ten dead. All because of Joker's new laughing gas.

Richard didn't hate.

But Zuko and the Joker almost drove him to the dark side he hoped he never caved to.

Tugging on a loose t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that actually fit (Alfred was buying him new clothes; Richard was sure of it), he headed back up to the study. He had to ask Bruce something…

A month had passed since the encounter with Wally. The team didn't talk to him much at all anymore. A quick word, a question if he understood the mission, but never a real conversation.

Richard understood Wally's plight. That was a rough deal. Maybe if he interfered… he'd been waiting, he and Winter both. But after seeing Wally two days ago with a welt that wasn't hidden by his shirt collar, he knew he'd waited long enough so Wally wouldn't suspect him.

And Artemis… well, maybe she knew. Or maybe she didn't. She was dating Wally, and her background was rough, too.

Kaldur? He'd been more reserved. And for a guy who was pretty chill over everything, he seemed on edge, almost angry. (Richard blamed himself for that one.)

Roy was fine. And off doing his own thing. Nothing new.

M'gann was improving her cooking skills, thankfully. And she looked at him strangely. Ever since he'd shut off his end of their link, they hadn't really spoken.

Connor had been…

happy.

Well, still grumpy and rough. But he had a better grip on his anger. Superman had actually been interacting with him ever since the New Year's battle with the Leaguers.

"At least one relationship's working out," Richard mumbled, rubbing his arm as he passed by the secret clock door. He and Bruce had been quiet. Distant and quiet. The only interaction they had was when they were on patrol. That was it.

Richard glanced around as he fully entered Bruce's study. In the dim lighting, he picked out a bottle-

an almost empty bottle.

With a gnawing pain in his stomach, a throbbing head, and blurry vision (was that from stress?), Richard approached Bruce's desk on shaking legs.

He really didn't want to say anything to Bruce, not with a burnt out bottle and brain.

Bruce looked up from his laptop, face red and eyes unfocused. "Dick?"

Richard struggled not to glare at the slur in Bruce's voice.

"Dick? What… what're you-"

Bruce started laughing.

Richard panicked at first, thinking Bruce had gotten a breath of the Joker's crappy end-all poison. But when Bruce's face slipped immediately back to its hardened scowl, Richard knew otherwise.

"Bruce, I…" he didn't even remember what he'd wanted to talk to Bruce about. So what was he going to say? What- "Why do you drink?"

Bruce looked up, his eyes completely drained of color. "What?" he growled, slamming a hand onto his desk.

Richard gulped. He did NOT just say that… did he? "Nothing. I-"

Before he could blink, Bruce was on his feet and had him pinned against one of the study walls. Richard winced, shivering a little from fear. Bruce had been verbally abusive as a drunk. He'd been mentally abusive...

But he was never a physically abusive drunk.

Bruce, who had his much larger hands on Richard's bony shoulders, slammed him into the wall again, a CRACK! sounding as he leaned closer to Richard. The heavy fog of alcohol made Dick want to gag as Bruce breathed on him, growling something Richard couldn't make out.

Richard shuddered. What had turned Bruce into... into this?

The anger in Bruce's drowning eyes tripled and he shouted, "DO NOT QUESTION ME!" and threw the fourteen year old to the floor. Richard made no move to stand, just to get off his now incredibly sore back. Bruce shook his head and stood over Richard, who was just now trying to stand by grabbing onto BRuce's desk.

Bruce, in his inebriated state, decided to deliver one more blow:

"You're nothing but a brat. An ungrateful carnie brat."

Richard just stood up silently and bit back a hit of pain. From both the fact that he'd hit his head off the corner of Bruce's desk (where the leg and the desk met... he was sure there was blood running down his neck), and from the words.

Bruce had said that before. Only now he'd chosen to throw another knife into the mix with the circus.

A glare pierced his line of vision and Richard immediately looked away.

"Get out of my sight," Bruce slurred, pickling up the empty bottle with one hand, his hand around the neck as he held upside down.

Richard didn't say another word, just ran from the office, terror and grief triggering tears as he fled.

* * *

…

* * *

(the next morning)

Bruce sat at the table, a slight headache impeding his ability to focus on the morning paper. "Alfred, where's Richard?"

Alfred sat Bruce's breakfast in front of him slowly, looking around. "I… am not sure. He may have overslept-"

Richard padded around the corner and into the dining room slowly.

Alfred grinned and left to fetch Richard's plate. But as he stepped into the kitchen he frowned. Richard looked pale. Far too pale. And his posture was terrible!

But he'd only seen the youngest member of the Wayne household walk like that a handful of times before…

Silently Alfred bit the edge of his lip, worrying it as he found a bottle in the impeccably organized cupboard over the sink. He shook out a pill and laid it on the side of Dick's plate before heading back out.

Alfred stepped into the room, feeling that he'd crossed the threshold from mild concern to significant tension as he heard Bruce ask, "Richard, are you feeling alright?"

Dick nodded, smiling his thanks to Alfred as he sat down Richard's eggs and toast…

and the pill.

Richard discretely swept it from the plate and into his hand. He'd take it when Bruce's wall flipped back up, the newspaper obscuring his vision.

But Bruce wasn't picking the paper back up. Instead of training his eyes on the stock section, he focused on his ward. Alfred could see why as Richard began to eat after a moment of silence with his dark-rimmed eyes closed. He was dead tired, at least in appearance. And he was moving stiffly.

Alfred quickly hid his concern as Richard softly thanked him again for the food, saying it was delicious. He caught Richard trying to cover a wince and sighed.

But Richard wasn't eating.

Okay, he was.

Just not a lot.

A nibble here, a bite missing there. The plate was barely touched.

Bruce sighed as well. "Are you hurt?"

Dick was quick to shake his head. "No Just slept wrong, I guess." He ate another few bites (very tiny bites) before Bruce picked up his paper and buried his mind in the editorial page.

Richard hurriedly downed the pill with his orange juice and swallowed heavily. He stared down at his plate like it was a curse.

He couldn't eat…

Silently, Richard forced himself to get through half the food. He didn't want to waste it. He chose to pocket the toast, saving it for Winter, and he drained the glass, his throat tight. Slipped from the table, snuck up the stairs, and shut his door with a click.

Alfred returned and wordlessly took Richard's plate. Not much food left.

But something else was going on besides Richard hiding an injury. Something-

"Alfred, when is the meeting with the mayor again? Tomorrow?"

Alfred glanced at the calendar on the stainless steel refrigerator, cursive blocks of text highlighting important dates. He ran his finger down the one column-

Oh good Lord, no.

"It… it's tomorrow, Master Bruce," Alfred barely managed to answer back. He didn't even catch Bruce's mumbled "thanks" as he kept looking at the calendar.

Tomorrow wasn't the problem.

Today was.

Today was the day Richard's parents were killed.

Alfred closed his eyes sadly. He'd almost forgotten! And he doubted Bruce remembered. The man didn't even remember his drunken stupor from last night.

The normally placid butler felt quite worn down at this realization. Poor Richard…

He smiled and pulled out a baking sheet from a cupboard.

Maybe some chocolate chip cookies would help. He made them without fail whenever this horrible day rolled around.

Today would be no exception.

And if young Richard needed someone, he'd be there for him.

* * *

 _-thanks again for all the reviews and support this story has gotten! i really can't thank you guys enough! :')_

 _hopefully the next chapter will be up soon! (i'll try to not make you all wait two months...)_


	20. To Get Home

_-earlier than last time! yay! :)_

 _last chapter: Bruce becomes more violent (abusive, actually), and… that was it, really._

 _this chapter… i really don't know how to prepare anybody for this. Winter won't be making an appearance until next chapter, which is the last chapter of this story! wow…_

 _and at the end of the chapter i have an extra author's note._

 _(also... sorry for any mistakes! i have a severe migraine and i feel like i'm either going to throw up or pass out... i thought i should get this posted, though.)_

* * *

 **(April 5th, 8:34 PM - Mount Justice)**

"It was YOUR fault!"

"I have to side with the others on this. You have a habit of-"

"Ignoring orders?"

Green Lantern shook his head and sighed as Flash zoomed up beside him. "This isn't good."

Barry groaned. "I know. Who… who else is here?" he asked slowly, wanting to test the waters a bit.

"Diana, C. K., Bruce, Red Tornado… us, and Canary's on her way. Some hostage situation?"

The Flash just nodded slowly as they rounded the last corner, the shouting increasing tenfold.

There, in the main room, stood Bruce, cowl shrouding a blatant scowl. He was radiating disappointment and anger, if his cloaked and clenched fists had anything to show for their owner's attitude. Wonder Woman sat on a couch by Artemis and Wally, one teenager red-faced and steaming, the other quite quiet. Superboy was just standing against the wall, watching with narrowed eyes that told Barry that he wasn't quite thrilled with what he was seeing.

In truth, Barry wasn't happy either.

He was mad. Upset. Appalled. Angered greatly at seeing the entire Young Justice team ripping apart their youngest member.

Robin just stood in the circle of their mob-mentality circle, staring either at the ground or the zeta tube just past his mentor. He never made eye contact. He never looked towards his mentor.

A very exhausted Flash was sure Richard knew all too well how the mighty Bruce Wayne felt. Why bother looking? Just to confirm it?

There was no point.

Martian Manhunter and Miss Martian arrived, Barry frowning as they both focused completely on Robin.

They were trying to get a read on his emotions, trying to find… something. Anything.

Barry knew how the League felt. He glanced over at Superman, then back to Hal. They all nodded at each other, sure beyond any doubt that they were the only three truly on Richard's side. But they were far outnumbered. They'd said their piece, multiple times. But no one listened. No one took the "joke" of a speedster, the big blue Boy Scout, and their friend Hal seriously on the issue.

Superman just stood near Superboy, gently laying a hand on his shoulder as another scream that Barry didn't bother to listen to pierced the air. He saw Richard's head turn, just enough, and his glasses reflect the scene, the clone and his father. A relationship that was finally forming.

A pang of sorrow hit Barry's optimistic gut. They had what Richard wanted. Superboy was accepted now, by both the team and his father… and the League.

He watched Robin carefully. His shoulders were straight, but his head was hung. His hair was recently cut, looking far too short and out of character, barely any mess to it. His red sweatshirt and grey jacket hung. They didn't fit, except like that of a shirt on a store hanger. His black tennis shoes were scuffed, and…

Barry's blood boiled.

There was a bruise on his cheek.

Not obvious. In fact, barely visible. But he was part of C.C.P.D., and Barry knew when someone was trying to hide something.

Richard had used make-up to hide it. He'd done well. It was only because of raw experience in some situations that Barry could make it out. He didn't want to think… he couldn't bring himself to…

to accuse Bruce?

No. No. Not Bruce. He'd never…

But a second glance sparked something in Barry. Recognition. The bruise landed exactly on the same spot that Bruce had managed a whopping hit on Richard's face when the League was under mind control. When they mysteriously got snapped from their puppet-like trance. That issue had died to the League. Barry still wondered.

And now?

His heart stopped. He didn't want to believe it.

But it did all add up.

Another glance at Richard tore his heart apart further. Here stood a kid who'd gone through hell… He'd lost his parents. He'd been thrown in a detention center for merely daring to exist. He'd become the youngest caped crime fighter in their league. He'd taken on some of the worst villains out there. He'd been in overdrive for years now.

Here in front of Bartholomew Allen's eyes was one of the strongest people he'd ever seen.

And he was getting verbally torn apart by the people he'd considered his role models, his mentors-

"You don't deserve your title."

-and now…

the only person on earth who could ever even attempt to replace Richard's father.

Batman's cold words hit the ground like rocks. Silence rippled through the room, all faces radiating anger, or shock, or acceptance.

Except for Robin.

Behind his glasses, Barry couldn't tell what was happening. But he'd seen the color drain from Richard's eyes, the vibrant blue slowly drowned by depressing grey.

He had to do something.

But Barry froze. He couldn't… he opened his mouth slowly, but it snapped shut.

Now wasn't the time.

Now was too crowded and biased and intent on the kill. Who would heed his warning? Who-

A glance at Clark.

Only Barry noticed the subtle look of concentration on the reporter's face as his eyes narrowed just a smidge.

X-ray vision…

The cape clad hero's jaw tightened and locked that way, escaping all notice except that of the scarlet speedster.

This all happened in an instant, though to the Flash it felt like agonizing years, as Bruce continued to slam his ward. "You have been making careless mistakes. You disobey direct orders. You don't focus anymore." He sighed bitterly and loudly muttered, "I should have waited, chosen someone else," before sweeping from the room, his night-stained cape billowing behind him.

All eyes went to Robin, watching, waiting for something.

But he just stood there, staring at the floor.

At first, everyone thought he was just in shock. But Barry watched closer, and he noticed Richard's hand go to his jacket pocket. He pulled out something, something small, then put it back and walked from the room.

Wally stood up, and said the first words he had ever since their mission:

"Why was he holding a stuffed animal?"

* * *

…

* * *

 **(an hour later, in Richard's room at the manor)**

Richard didn't take off his glasses.

He knew the second he did… the dam would break. He'd sob his eyes out. He'd drown in grief.

He wasn't letting that happen.

Richard hadn't changed either. Instead, he sat on his bed, cradling a tiny stuffed bear that stretched only the length of his lithe hand. The ears were mismatched, one yellow, one purple and obviously a replacement for the original. The brown eyes stared up at him, gleaming in the dull light from his desk. An orange body and yellow pads on the feet and paws showed wear, but no rips or loose threads. The purple nose was faded and well-loved from nuzzling.

And the fur was singed.

Their mission? An apartment fire near Mercury Labs.

Robin's orders? Help the civilians coming out.

But when a distraught single mother screamed that her four year old was nowhere to be found…

those orders were null and void.

Robin knew the mother wasn't at fault. Kid Flash, Superboy, and Aqualad had been rushing into the building to get the people out. It was chaos as the fire consumed the structure in record time.

But he'd ran in anyways.

Robin had found the girl, collapsed and clutching her bear. He'd rushed her out the back doors to a team of medics before rejoining his team. They thought he'd just been stupid, running in carelessly.

And Richard let them believe it.

Only Wally didn't accuse him. He just stood there, thinking.

And Richard let him think. He had too much on his mind already.

The girl was okay. Now, at least. She'd stopped breathing. She'd almost died.

But she was alive.

Robin had hung out long enough to make sure she was somewhat stable before turning to leave from the ambulance team's constant vigil over her and her mother. Before he could take a step though, the girl had tugged on his cape, and he turned around.

She'd offered him her toy in thanks, and her mother offered a tearful thank you, along with a hug. He'd said something along the lines of, "I just did the right thing, ma'am. I'll be praying for both of you," and left.

But as they were flying back to the mountain, he'd pulled up the news story on the fire.

The little girl had died.

Too much smoke, too little air…

whatever had claimed her life…

She was gone.

Richard stared into the bear's eyes as they bored into his aching soul. He swallowed thickly and mumbled, "I can't do this."

"I can't do this."

He stood up and ripped off his glasses, throwing them against the wall. "I can't… I can't…" he fell to his knees, the tears starting to fall, like he knew full well they would. He clutched the bear like a lifeline. "Dear God, I can't do this."

He'd failed.

He'd disobeyed orders and FAILED.

An innocent child was _dead_.

Dick looked up at the ceiling, wishing he knew where Winter was. She'd been away lately, working on their… plan. Their back-up plan.

He bit his lip.

 _ **"You have been making careless mistakes."**_

He shook his head sadly.

 _ **"You disobey direct orders."**_

He swallowed the boulder lodged in his ragged throat.

 _ **"You don't focus anymore."**_

He cried.

 _ **"I should have waited, chosen someone else."**_

He wanted out.

Richard took a deep breath, only to gasp around it as the tears fell harder. Their plan might not be a back-up for much longer…

but it was only if things got bad.

They were bad now, but Richard's parents always said that someone else, somewhere in the world, would always have it worse.

So he waited.

He and Winter both.

Richard sighed and looked at the toy in his burned hands. He smiled slowly. "I hope I'll see you again someday. Maybe I can talk to you for more than a minute… and maybe you'll see your mom again too. I hope you've met my mom and dad. Maybe…" he choked for a moment. "Maybe we could be friends. Me, you, Winter… mom and dad…" his voice gave out all together and just cried silently, hiccuping around the burning tears falling from his eyes and slowly, painfully, laid the bear in a box under his bed. The bear was nestled in by his Bible, the one from Winter. The one on his desk was his extra. The notes were the same in both, but far more extensive in the hidden one. He shifted the Bible, revealing a taped together poster, one of his parents… the one from his locker that had been ripped up last year by bullies. His stuffed elephant from the circus was tucked in there as well, and Winter's extra gear, along with a charged headset and some other little things he'd grown attached to.

Dick slipped the box closed and placed it back under the dark corner under his bed.

And not a second too soon.

Bruce had thrown the door open-

and he was drunk.

Richard bit back a sigh. This was the last thing he needed today, and it hurt to see the man he had trusted like a father in this state.

Bruce walked up to his bed and looked directly into Richard's eyes; Dick flinched at the cold, hardened edge the alcohol lent to the billionaire's patented glare. "I've decided on your punishment."

Richard just stared up at Bruce. Punishment for murder. He'd let the girl die. He wasn't fast enough. He wanted to trade places, be the lifeless body in a morgue so that mother would still have her child…

"You will go straight to school and straight home for a month. No patrol, no team meetings, nothing. You're lucky you still have your title after all the-" Richard didn't even flinch at Bruce's cursing "-you've pulled."

He just nodded. "Bruce, I'm sorry. I-"

 _CRACK._

Richard found himself on the floor, half his face burning. He couldn't even push himself up, scrabbling to grab the edge of the bed and get to his feet.

Bruce hadn't…

He didn't…

He _had_.

Bruce had slapped him. While drunk.

Richard didn't know what to do, what to say. "Bruce, p-please-"

 _SLAP._

This time Richard hit his head off the floor. Hard. He saw spots dancing in front of Bruce angry face as he spat at his ward, "Sorry? You're _sorry?_ It's a little late for that, _chum_." Then he turned and stomped off, slamming the door behind him.

Dick didn't sit up. He didn't move.

He just laid on the floor for a good half hour.

It was too late for a lot of things.

* * *

...

* * *

 **(April 7th, 7:23 PM - Bruce's Study)**

Two days.

It had been two long, painful days of avoiding Bruce, and to a degree, Alfred. Richard had covered up the bruise covering half his face pretty well, but as it shifted from purplish-black to a vomit-like green, he didn't know if make-up would conceal it much longer.

Someone at school had noticed. It was Brent, the jerk who tormented him and who seemed insistent on continuing through this life and the next. But for some reason Brent hadn't pushed the subject past a couple of jabs. Instead, something about him changed when Richard just looked up at him tiredly, saying nothing in reply.

But after a near forty-eight hours of silence between the two, Richard thought maybe… maybe he could talk to Bruce. Explain something that wasn't quite what he'd done. There was no convincing any Leaguer (except Barry, perhaps… and possibly Kent, but the Kryptonian was friends with Bruce, so scratch that) of the truth.

What was the truth?

He HAD disobeyed orders.

He HAD run into the fire like an idiot. (But with good intent, right? Or didn't that matter?)

He HAD tried to save a civilian.

And he'd failed.

So the fourteen year old vigilante found himself outside the billionaire's study, hand raised to knock. He gulped, mumbled something that he didn't even catch in his nervous state, and knocked once… twice…

"Come in."

But Dick stopped dead. Bruce's voice had the hint of a slur behind the words. And if that wasn't enough, he could hear glass against glass, and a curse over what he was sure Bruce said was vodka spilling to the floor.

"Who's out there? Alfred?"

Though his tone was a bit softer, Richard couldn't find the courage to go in. He could face an armed robber, a rapist, a serial killer, even the Joker for crying out loud!

But not Batman. Not a fallen hero who he'd been praying for nonstop to change, for a miracle, for anything.

He sighed. "It's me. I… I was looking for something. Nevermind though."

Bruce just grunted behind the door and Richard slowly walked away, back down the dimly lit hall to his room.

He had to talk to Winter. He couldn't wait.

* * *

 _\- so the bruise Richard has at the beginning of the chapter? not from Bruce. let's just assume it's from a bully or some jerk because i didn't bother to come up with a good story to explain that.  
_

 _okay, so now for the extra author's note…_

 _i… usually do not do this. but i figured it needed to be said. (and no, i am NOT trying to start a fight. i'm stating what i believe.)_

 _i am a Christian._

 _that does NOT make me a homophobe. that does NOT make me homophobic. that does NOT mean i hate gays._

 _it means that i love them the same as everyone else. i don't support their lifestyle, but i support THEM as friends or respect them as a person. one of my only friends at school is gay. she knows we don't agree on the issue. but she's said, and i quote: "I hate all Republicans. I hate Conservatives. You? I actually like you. You didn't try to shove your beliefs down my throat."_

 _Robin's one thought in "This Isn't the End" isn't meant as a gay slam. it's just a general thought from a 13 year old boy. i didn't write that he hated gays. i wrote that he, a child, just didn't understand their lifestyle choice._

 _there is a huge difference._

 _so if you feel the need to stop reading my stories because of this, then please do so. i'm respectfully stating my opinion, and if that offends you… i can't say that i apologize. but i can say that i respect you for what you choose to believe. the least you can do is respect me for my choice._

 _i'd rather be rejected by the world and accepted by God, than be accepted by the world and rejected by God._

 _next chapter: Richard makes a mistake that sets everybody against him. And by everybody, I mean the majority of the League. (that's… well, no, that's not the whole chapter. it's about half… or a third…)_


	21. Is to Turn Around

_-finals are finally over!_

 _annnnd… so is high school. wow, that… that's still not registering for me, so i'll probably be an emotional wreck in two weeks when it finally does._

 _sorry about the wait! i really wanted this last chapter to be great, and i wasn't in the right mindset to write anything, well, GOOD. (life happens…) at least i'm hoping that this is good… it's one in the morning, so i'll settle for mediocre. (stupid migraine...)  
_

 _last chapter: Dick disobeys orders (with good reason), and gets slapped around by Bruce (yay for drama…). and a back-up plan is mentioned._

 _this chapter: oh boy. um, i can't honestly prepare you for what's about to happen, so… yeah._

 ** _WARNINGS: self-harm mentioned and described in detail, and suicidal thoughts_**

 _brace yourself._

* * *

 **(April 18th, 1:56 PM - Mount Justice)**

"Recognized, Robin B-01."

Wally jumped, nearly falling from the couch.

He had to be hearing things. He just had to. Rob hadn't shown up since… since that mission.

But sure enough, as the speedster somehow got his feet under him, there stood Robin. In uniform. In quite baggy uniform, and… was that a bruise?

Wally tried not to stare, but his green eyes kept tracing the blatant black and blue streak cuffing the side of the fellow teen's face. It stretched up from under a jutting cheekbone and curved up under the domino mask-

"You can stop staring now," Robin said softly, his hands just hanging at his sides.

Wally gulped and frowned. No smirk. No comeback. No cackle. No flipping off out of sight. No…

no trace of his best friend.

His own bruises hurt, flaring up under his suit as the redhead dared to ask lowly, "…did that come from patrol?"

Robin just locked his masked eyes onto Wally's, the green irises dimmed with an all too familiar pain. He could see the mark, the livid splash of color under the red googles. "Did that?" he gestured limply.

Wally didn't answer either, and in that moment both knew their silence betrayed them.

Richard knew what Wally hid.

And Wally surely knew what Richard hid.

Wally sighed. "We, uh, we have a mission, you know."

The traffic light with a cape nodded once. "Yeah. Wouldn't be here otherwise. Still grounded."

Wally didn't know how to respond, which didn't surprise him anymore. He was talking less, eating less, training more-

he glanced at Robin as they walked to join the others, a sinking feeling swirling in his gut.

It was like looking in a tiny Gotham-ized mirror.

"Dick…" Wally gently grabbed his friend's shoulder. The tired bird turned slowly and looked up, his lips set in a thin line. "I… I'm really sorry. I was a total jerk to you. I…" he swallowed heavily, unable to go on.

But Robin proved he didn't have to. "It's okay, KF. I forgave you a long time ago. And besides…" he grinned slightly, but still no signature smirk, "We all do dumb things." The grin vanished, and so did Wally's two seconds of hope. "I'm a prime example of that."

"Rob, I know I'm not the brightest. And I know everyone's been blaming you. And… I'm not the best with words. But I also know that something bigger is going on here. And whatever it is… I'm here for you. I know you aren't THAT cocky." He smiled and elbowed Dick in the arm.

Robin just shrugged. "Thanks. I… I just don't know…" he stopped walking, just before the last turn to meet up with the team. A quick glance at his watch as he tried to reign in his emotions. They had a couple minutes yet. His voice dropped to a whisper that Wally barely caught. "I just don't know how much longer I can do this."

"Do what?" Wally inquired in an equally low tone.

"This-" Robin looked around. " _This whole thing._ I can't please _anyone_ anymore." Anyone on the team or the League or at school or at home, at least. "I feel like I'm falling, Wally."

The overly optimistic speedster felt his heart strain against his chest. Surely Richard didn't mean… "Dude, you aren't-"

"What?" Robin snorted. "Considering it? Taking one final leap? One… one final fall?" He looked up at his friend. "I did. For a while. And, if I'm being totally honest, I still do."

Wally shook his head. "Rob, PLEASE, don't do anything stupid. I know we've been total idiots, but please-"

"Please?" Robin almost laughed. "Don't worry about me, KF. I've managed this far. I can muddle through, get traught… survive."

"But surviving isn't living, Dick."

The younger of the two narrowed his eyes. "And what exactly are _you_ doing?"

Wally, yet again, couldn't answer.

But even if he could get a few strangled words out, there was no time.

The two joined the rest of the team, and Robin couldn't help but notice the lack of glares shot his way. Everyone looked at him. Just looked. Just a half-hearted look that pretty much summed up how Robin felt-

 _Dick, you there?_

Richard fought the urge to nod as Wonder Woman and Batman and Superman… and Flash - okay, this was definitely big deal - stepped to the center of the room. **_Yeah. Did you-_**

 _I've got everything worked out… but I really don't hope-_

 ** _we have to use it?_** Richard sighed, both from the gravity of his conversation with Winter, and from the scowl Bruce was directing his way. **_Me neither. How are you-_**

 _I'll manage._

 _ **Stop stealing my line.**_ Richard took a second to relax as the four heroes started pulling up holographic displays and handed M'gann the coordinates for the mission. He thought back to just two days ago. Winter had stumbled into Wayne Manor, badly beaten and busted up, but grinning like an idiot. She'd had to jump through a few hoops to get their little back-up plan in place, but after a quick, wheezed-out assurance that none of her collateral was illegal, Richard helped her up to his room, a first aid kit and some lukewarm food from dinner waiting. Getting briefed now. **_Where… where are you?_**

 _In the Batcave._

 _ **Um, why?**_

 _Because I find dripping stalactites and hundreds of bats watching my every move inviting. Don't worry- I shut off the monitors like you showed me._

 ** _Okay. Just don't make anything explode!_**

 _No promises…_

Oh dear.

Richard straightened as a tired Batman (was that stubble? Bruce hadn't been home last night, or the night before…) turned their attention to a large map of Metropolis, a flashing beacon of blood red illuminating the suburbs around Superman's city. "A terrorist group formerly associated with the Light has placed ten bombs around the city. All reportedly contain kryptonite-" Batman moved away from one of the screens as a feed of their video, showing off one of the bombs, played "-and they do have hostages held at four of the reported bomb sites."

Working with an audience. Nothing new.

But Robin couldn't help but feel a flutter of nervousness. And it only grew stronger as Superman shook his head sadly. Superman and Superboy were unable to assist; well, Superman could, and he was… from the air. And from the tone Batman used, Robin was positive the League felt the group had planted decoys. He tuned back in as Flash spoke up. "We have three hours to disable the bombs, if there are truly ten of them."

Artemis frowned. "What about their demands? Did they have any? Money? Weapons?"

"No," Batman answered simply. "They're just hellbent on destruction."

Robin bit his lip, eyeing the red marker on the map. So that was where the League satellites had picked up the transmission from. "Does the city know?"

Superman sighed. "No. I'll be coming to scope out the buildings. But we have to check both the city AND the suburbs."

A step closer to the map and Robin could've smirked. But he didn't… he didn't have the pride left to. "Maybe not, Superman."

"What do you mean?" Batman gruffly demanded an explanation, looming over his ward's dwarfed frame.

 _Dick? You okay?_

 _ **Just asterous. Gimme a sec.** _ "The video was sent from the suburbs. And if they want damage, the best thing would be placing the bombs in the suburbs, that way the explosion affects both the city and the outlying areas. And these-" he gestured to the smaller blinking markers, indicating the hostage situations "-are all on the edge of the city, possibly just distractions. I mean, I could be wrong," Dick second-guessed himself, shrugging with insecurity as Batman's lenses narrowed with intensity and the eyes of the team bore into him, "but it would make sense."

Flash appeared behind the fourteen year old, glancing at the map. "He's right, Bats. And sorry Supes, but we don't have the time to scan the whole city, too."

Superman just nodded. "Suburbs it is." He smiled at Robin's back, but sighed again as the child just looked at the floor.

Something was definitely wrong here…

Barry noticed too. Albeit hesitant, he dared to question Batman again. "And shouldn't we have Robin on the hacking detail as well? No offense Batman, but the clock's ticking. You working from the Watchtower and me on the ground, despite my speed, might not be enough."

Robin's fists tightened. He wasn't supposed to hack?! That was his job! That was the only thing the team still valued him for!

And he'd been replaced by his own mentor?

He understood Barry's involvement; two speedsters were better than one anyways. But…

unless…

Richard slowly looked up at Batman, making admittedly awkward eye contact, seeing as neither could see the other's eyes. That was something they'd never needed to do before.

But now?

A quite worn down bird's jaw clenched, and he turned away from the giant hero with a strong hunch.

 ** _Winter?_**

 _Yeah, Dick?_

 ** _Can I run something by you? A… scenario if you will._**

 _I'm down._

 ** _Suppose a terrorist group has planted bombs around Metropolis. And suppose Batman's the main hacker for the mission… from the Watchtower. Flash is on the ground, and Superman's overhead._**

A moment of nothingness. Then Winter's answer came, echoing with tension. _I would guess they're… they're watching you._

Richard glanced around as Aqualad agreed that Robin was a "valuable asset" in the hacking department, making Robin feel more like he was needed, and yet also more like dirt… ** _What if this is it? My last shot to get things right?_**

 _Dick…_

 ** _Can you help me out from there?_**

 _Uh, sure. Bruce has the information pulled up here._

 ** _Great. Start scanning every abandoned building in the suburbs around Metropolis. And… in the city, too. We're looking for explosives of any kind._** In case his hunch was wrong.

 _Got it._

Robin watched as Batman deactivated the holograms. "Remember: you are short on time. Stick to your positions, and follow all orders from Flash or Superman or myself. Understood?"

The team collectively nodded, Richard hesitating slightly.

His gut protested his silent promise, and he hoped it wasn't a harbinger of future failure.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(April 18th, 2:04 PM - Metropolis: TWO HOURS AND TEN MINUTES LEFT)**

Robin glanced up as M'gann's bishop flew past overhead. Her, Superboy, and Artemis were seated inside, racing in the hot summer sunlight towards the possibly doomed city. KF was already in the city with Flash, handling one of the hostage situations as Superman took to the sky, already locating two of the bomb locations and confirming that one hostage situation was actually a hoax; they weren't holding a bomb in Metropolis Central Bank. The heavily armed guards just intended to stay standing till the bombs blew. Suicide, really… it was a horrible thought.

"Got one hostage situation under control. Cops are here. Everyone is safe," Superman announced over the com link. The team and the Leaguers carried com links, and Robin felt like it was an extra burden as he rolled the gas under his hand, Superboy's motorcycle racing for the outskirts of the county border. Toting around the mind link and the com…

and the mind link hurt. Every time someone voice their thoughts in his head, their oh so lovely words caused World War III to break out in his battered brain. The migraine only grew with every passing minute.

Robin knew he couldn't focus. He could barely drive with his head pounding.

But lives were at stake. So he tuned out M'gann and listened for Winter. **_Find anything?_**

 _Yeah. There's only five bombs, if that helps._

Better than ten. **_Where are they?_**

 _Two on the north side, both in abandoned warehouses. One on the east, in a residence. One at the video release site, and one just a mile from your current position._

Richard started, nearly swerving off the road. _**How do you know where I am?**_

 _…Batman has a tracker on you?_

He should've known. His left hand tightened on the handle. **_Great… so this really IS my last shot._**

 _Robin, don't think about it. Just do the right thing. Whatever happens, I'm here._

 ** _I know. Thanks, Frost._**

 _Anytime, Grayson. Half a mile left now._

 ** _Alright. Let me know if anything new shows up._**

 _Roger._

Richard rolled his shoulders, taking a deep breath and trying to brace for the pain as he reached for the team mind link. _Hey, guys? I've located one of the bombs._ He activated the com, the throbbing too intense. "KF, you available?"

"Yeah. Where are you?"

"25th street. Blue house with an armed man in the window."

"These guys must be suicide bombers!" Wally half complained, half growled. "Be right there!"

"Robin," Aqualad cut in. "Stick to orders."

Robin sighed. "I'll do my best."

His com crackled to life. "Robin," Batman ground out lowly. "So help me…"

Robin stared at his com link for a moment. He didn't answer, just applied the brakes and watched as Wally skidded to a yellow and red stop, the ground smoking behind him. "So, you distract and I hack?" Just like old times. He almost smiled.

Wally grinned. "Sounds good to me, man. You…" he gulped. "You gonna answer Bats?"

"No." And Richard left it at that, swinging his leg up over the bike and dumping it on the side of the road.

Just as he was sneaking around the back of the house he heard Kid Flash race in, a door banging against a wall as it was forced open. "Hey, ugly!" He rushed for the back door, found it locked, and whipped out a kit-

 _Robin!_

M'gann's voice sent daggers through his skull, piercing any remaining shred of awareness. Wha… what was that?! He nearly fell to his knees; he would've if his hand wasn't gripping the door knob like his life depended on it. _Robin, where are-_

 _Not now, M'gann._ Oh, this was going to earn him more demerits, more red marks on his test, more hell to pay…

 _Robin, I-_

 _STOP!_

And something snapped.

All clarity rushed back to his aching head, his mind now at ease as… something was missing. Something painful. Something huge, the elephant taking up his tired mind's limited capacity…

He'd shut down the mind link.

It was gone.

Richard smirked. He'd just really have to pay attention to the com now. No big deal. He picked the lock. Opened the door. Snuck in-

and bingo.

"Whoa…" was all he managed at the sight of the bomb. It was massive, wiring spilling out over the floor like a terribly crafted sci-fi film. Red lights, a flashing countdown taunting any who dared to approach, a camera overhead-

oh lovely. He was probably spotted.

 _Dick? You okay, man?_

He smirked. This was his thing, his talent, and he was gonna use it to do good, to save people… no matter the cost. **_I'm great. I'm… I'm whelmed._**

 _Glad to hear it. NOW DISARM THAT STINKING THING!_

He chuckled and quickly started, linking his watch to the mainframe, fiddling with codes, grabbing up clippers from his belt, snipping away like a hasty stylist hacking off hair… he wasn't sure where that simile came from, but he stood by it in all its awkward glory-

and done. **_One down, Winter!_**

The lights powered down, a faint hum whirling down to dismal. Silence resounded, until a yell of triumph rand out as someone's head came through the now off its hinge's door. Wally stuck his head in, the dead bomb gleaming in the scarlet googles over his eyes. "Awesome, man! You… you did shut it down, right?"

"Yep!" Robin grinned. A genuine grin. An honest smile that Winter picked up on as he sent a valiant one down! over their bond. "Now, let's get going-"

and he tripped over a wire.

Wally laughed and helped his friend up. "And you call me clumsy!" He chuckled, then reached down. His com. "You dropped this, bro."

"Thanks." Richard stuck it back in, just as Flash announced that he, M'gann and Artemis had disarmed a bomb on the north side.

Batman responded with a quick, "Good," and then asked for Robin's report.

Richard pressed his com, a cackle of static causing him to wince. "One down, Batman. How many left?"

"Seven."

So, two really. A peek at his watch.

"We've got less than two hours left. Let's split up. You want the north side?"

Wally shrugged. "Sounds good. But Rob… you gonna be alright? On your own?"

"You don't trust me." Richard didn't have to ask. He could feel the anxiety pouring off Wally.

The ginger speedster sighed and pushed up his googles, their only audience member unconscious as they turned so he wasn't facing the camera. "Rob, it's not that. I just… I know the League's watching you. Flash told me that Bats is keeping an eye on you. If this goes to hell… so are you. I don't want to see that."

He was shocked as the younger one shrugged. "I've been in hell for months now, KF. I couldn't care less at this point. And, if this does fall flat to Hades…" he grabbed his friend's yellow shoulder. "You were a great friend. Thank you."

Wally bit back the lump in his throat trying to trigger his tears. "Same to you, man. So… ready to shut these idiots down?"

Richard smirked and cackled, flipping from the room and out of the house alongside his friend. "Let's kick some butt."

Both raced off, one quite a bit slower than the other (but 100 mph on a motorcycle down the cul-de-sac was quite impressive), and both struggling to ignore the weight of Batman's watchful eye.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(ONE HOUR AND SIX MINUTES LEFT)**

"Anything, KF?"

Wally appeared at Dick's side, slowing to match the bike's speed and answering in the negatory. Robin's gloved hand slapped the handle, the heat and sweat building under his suit. Dehydrated… how underwhelming. "Nope. There's only one left! Where is it?!"

"Not at any of the hostage sites-" Wally froze. "Wait, one? Bats said four-"

"I hacked their computers at the other place. They only had five."

Wally nodded, not questioning the semi-truth tumbling effortlessly from Dick's lips. "You okay, dude? You look really hot."

"Thanks for the complement, KF."

"I mean, you look dehydrated."

Robin looked up through sweaty bangs. Was it supposed to be this hot in April? "I'll manage. Let's keep looking."

"Okay... See you in ten?"

"Yep." With that, Wally took off, Robin hearing a quick mumble about finding a Big Belly Burger. He laughed and took off down the street, a bit slower this time. **_Winter? Got anything new?_**

 _I don't get it! This one building's picking up on the scanner! But KF said it's nothing!_

Her desperation was getting to Richard. **_I know. It- oh no._**

 _What?_

 ** _I'm going back to that house. He… he might've missed something._**

 _Okay. Be careful!_

 ** _I'll try._** Richard spun around and flew towards the location, the bike's GPS demanding a U-turn.

"Robin."

He grit his teeth at the sound of Bruce's voice. "Yes, Batman?" he asked tiredly, knowing this wouldn't end well.

"I set the GPS to meet up with Superman. Where are you going?"

He took a deep breath. "I have a lead on a new location. I'm heading there."

"Go. Meet. Superman."

What was he, five? He knew what he was supposed to do…

but maybe Superman could locate the bomb faster. Or he could waste more time. "Batman, I… I really need to check this out. It's in a densely populated area, and there's a school in lockdown with the threats on the news-"

"That is an ORDER, and I expect-"

SCREEEEEEECH!

Robin laid the bike down, desperately swerving to miss a texting man in a business suit as he stepped into the road. The jaywalker looked up in shock, seeing the scraped up bike. "Oh my g-"

"Are you alright?" Robin gasped, standing quickly as the world spun from dehydration. He took a moment to regain his equilibrium.

"Y-yeah. I-" he looked around. "I'm so sorry. I thought I was in the cross walk-" he looked and saw it was twenty feet ahead. "Oh gosh. I'm so sorry, Robin. Wait, this isn't Gotham. Why're you here?"

"Bomb threat." He wasn't quite sure why he'd blurted that out. But lack of water had to have some effect on speech… and having a filter of any kind. As long as his and Bruce's secret identities didn't come tumbling out he'd be fine. "Gotta go."

The man nodded and helped him pick the bike back up. "Aw, SB's gonna kill me for this."

"Who?"

"Superboy," Robin clarified as they righted the now road-burned bike. "Probably Hulk smash my head…" He shakily climbed on. "Sorry, sir."

"This was my fault!" the man retorted, seeing scuffs in the kevlar suit. "Kid, I-"

"It's okay. I've had worse. Just don't do that again!"

The twenty-something business guru nodded vigorously. "I won't!"

And with that Robin sped off.

He pressed his com. "Batman? Batman!"

Static.

His com was broke.

 ** _Winter, can you-_**

 _-pick up the com conversations? Yes. And yours is deactivated._

 ** _More like broke. It fell. It's smashed._**

 _Fell? Richard, what-_

 ** _Almost hit a civilian. Jaywalker. Um, now, what was that residential address again?_**

 _Winter read it off. But if it wasn't at that address… oh no._

 ** _What-_**

 _Dick, the address is part of the school's property. If Wally already checked the house-_

 ** _Then it's in the school! And I can't reach the team or Bats!_**

 _I'll try to help you out. They…_

 ** _They what?_** Dick picked up speed, flying around a corner just as red and blue lights flashed in his mirror. **_Oh, great. I have a tail._**

Winter's mental sigh rang in his ears. Her voice was strained. _Richard?_

Kinda busy with a cop on my butt, but I probably need to know… He ended his mental debate and asked **_What are they saying about me?_**

 _That… you shut off your com deliberately. Bruce isn't happy. He's sent Superboy to track you down._

 ** _Well, the blaring siren should help him out with that…_**

 _What?_

 ** _Got a cop following me._**

Winter huffed. _Good luck explaining why a fourteen year old's tearing up the streets in suburban Metropolis._

 ** _I don't need anymore luck! It's all been bad!_**

 _I'm praying for you, Dick. Please… please don't worry, okay?_

Richard glared in the mirror as another cop joined the pursuit. Yay for back-up. **_I am worried. But not about me. I'm worried about the kids. The school… Winter, we need a miracle right now! How much farther?_**

Both glanced at their GPS systems. _Five minutes._

Robin nodded. **_I can do all things…_**

 _…through Christ who strengthens me._

He poured on the gas and tuned out the sirens threatening to pull his pounding head in two.

Do good.

Do good…

He'd make his parents proud. He'd make Winter proud. He'd make his Savior proud.

He could do this.

* * *

…

* * *

 **(FOURTY-NINE MINUTES LEFT)**

"FREEZE, KID!"

Robin jumped from the bike as he dumped it in the grass, hoping no more scrapes cut up the now mangled crimson body. He didn't pay attention to the cops shouting for him. Didn't pay attention to the cop leaping from his car to chase after him.

He just ran.

With a speed that could rival Wally's he flew, running and jumping up through the office door's main window, knowing it was an older school with thinner glass, having been built before the days of terror following Columbine-

SMASH!

Office staff and security personnel in the building all turned as the glass shattered, slicing his arms and face and shimmering in his dark hair. He pushed himself up from his crouched landing and ran. Started scanning, his fingers tapping the watch faster than he ever knew they could as one of the cops in the school said something about a tazer. Footsteps pounded the chipped grey tile behind him. The pale blue hallways stretched out for eternity before him.

And he kept running.

 _I found it!_

 ** _Great! Um, where is it?_**

 _Girls' locker room._ He pushed aside the thought that Wally would be all over running in there without warning. But being the hormonal teenage boy he was, Dick somehow wasn't concerned about rushing in. He was focused on the task at hand, and if any of the terrorists were in the school, he couldn't tip his hand.

So he didn't.

Without warning, Richard rushed into the gym, past the boys' locker room, someone behind him yelling for him to stop-

BANG!

Something skimmed his arm, tearing a decent chunk of his right glove with it. Richard didn't dare to stop, but instead glanced over his shoulder and tore up the floor, rushing headlong into the changing room and bracing for-

nobody.

It was empty.

He breathed a small sigh of relief. **_Where is it in here?_**

 _One of the lockers… the scanners are picking up something in the 450 range._

Ten lockers to check…

not bad.

Robin brushed past the lockers, the crummy grey paint flicking off and revealing an ugly green from what he was sure was the 70's. He found the set of lockers and was starting to unscrew the top door-

"Hold it right there!"

A gun clicked, and Robin rolled his eyes, surprised at the calm he felt, despite the pain in his arm. What was that about? He turned around to face six officers, all panting from the chase, guns drawn. "Can I help you?" he asked plainly, crossing his arms. "'Cause if not, there's a bomb in here and I have to find it before the school, and a decent chunk of the next few blocks, goes BOOM."

The one officer, a bald man with a thick mustache and calculating cerulean eyes lowered his gun a notch. "You're Robin."

A small, single nod.

Three officers dropped their guns at that. "What-"

"The bombs are planted by a terrorist group. We've disarmed all the others. This is the last one." He just stared back at the dumbstruck officers, waiting for a move, a word, anything. Man, what a convoluted and confusing day this was turning out to be...

One in the back frowned. "Why isn't Superman here?"

"The bombs have kryptonite in the wiring. Plus, I'm a bit better at hacking."

The officer from before who recognized his domino mask and scuffed up suit nodded slowly, and he got right to work, not even looking to see if the guns were lowered.

But they were, and Robin could vaguely hear orders being sent out to guard the gym, and to start evacuating students.

He pulled the door off locker 450.

Empty.

451.

Empty.

452.

A shirt, a sports bra, and some incredibly nasty perfume, but no bomb.

453.

Empty.

454.

A shirt and well worn sneakers, which joined the other locker's contents on the floor.

455.

Nothing.

456.

A box.

Richard pulled out the flowery box and opened it cautiously.

Tampons.

Okay, that was stupid. He closed it and tossed it aside too, quickly checking his watch.

Thirty-five minutes.

Crap.

He turned to locker 457.

Empty.

458.

Empty.

459-

"Oh my word…" Robin gasped, aiming his scanner inside the locker.

The bomb was wired into the back of the locker, no timer, no knobs, no loose and sloppy wiring like before.

He froze, his blood running cold at seeing the extent of the bomb.

The explosive was wired through the building, charges laying in wait under the gymnasium floors, in the science classrooms, and under the auditorium, not to mention periodically placed in the hallway ceilings.

A superbomb…

the building was a stinking superbomb.

Robin saw screws on the panel and sighed. What if it was rigged? He couldn't touch this thing, not with the cops so close. He turned to them and yelled, "Get everyone out of the building! NOW!"

The cops rushed off, all except the one with the mustache that honestly reminded him a little of the Commissioner. Not much, but enough that he didn't feel too tense around him. The cop's eyes went wide at seeing the scan. "Can you stop it?"

"I'm praying I can," Robin answered, just now seeing the blood on his arm. He sighed and tore off his right glove, his hand and arm now bare.

"Maxwell hit you…"

He didn't look up as he grabbed tools off his belt. "What?"

"Maxwell took a shot at you… he grazed you."

Richard dared a quick glance at the wound. "Had worse."

The officer- Robin noticed his nametag: Newton- bit his lip. "Kid, I can't leave you in here."

Robin looked up, waiting for the cop's walkie to crackle with news that the building was clear. He saw the shine of a wedding band on his finger, the silver bright and a bit scratched. "Do you have a family?"

Newton nodded. "Two girls and a boy."

"Then don't stay because of me. Leave, because they need their father."

The cop hesitated. "But-"

"Make sure they have something I never had," Robin commanded. He pointed at the open door just as the walkie sparked to life with the announcement that the building was clear. "Now GO!"

The cop turned and ran, tears in his eyes as he rushed down the empty halls.

It wasn't just because of what he saw on Robin's arm.

No, not the bullet wound. That was bad, but it wasn't the problem.

It was the scars.

The faint gashes and grooves had caught and pooled the blood, making every slash look brand new. He couldn't count them all, but they looked horrific.

Robin…

He shook his head and bolted for the lobby doors.

A teenager, what… thirteen? fifteen tops?

Newton stared back at the gym as he joined the other officers, running with the students over to the middle school.

 _"Make sure they have something I never had."_

A father? Robin didn't have a father? Newton frowned, his fellow officers seeing his distress. He'd just assumed Batman was his father… and after all this time, four years of vigilante crime-fighting, he wasn't?

"Newt, you okay?" his friend asked, grabbing his shoulder.

Newton just stared and prayed, "Please let that kid survive."

* * *

…

* * *

 **(TWENTY-EIGHT MINUTES LEFT)**

Superboy landed with a thud beside the high school parking lot. He looked around, seeing the cops still ushering students away from the building.

 _Superboy, do you see Robin?_

 _No._ He groaned. Where was he?! Stupid kid, turning his com off, throwing M'gann out of his mind… _But I'll find him._

Wally chimed in on the link. _Hey, Supes, don't pound him, okay?_

 _No promises, Wally._ He rushed to the building, noting his damaged motorcycle, the broken glass, the empty halls, the wide open gym doors, the blood on the floor-

blood?

He stopped running and looked for where the trail went, quickly running into the locker room-

and there he was.

 _Found him._ Superboy glared at Robin's back, seeing a torn piece of his cape wrapped around his arm, blood dotting the inner yellow fabric. His suit was torn and scraped up, and his hair was more disheveled than usual. He didn't notice the other boy's arrival at all.

Conner tentatively stepped forward. One step. Two. Three-

"Got it!"

Robin got his head out of the stubby box of a locker and grinned, then glanced at his watch. "Okay, that's the hall bombs. Now I have to disable the ones in the gym-"

and he noticed Superboy.

Robin just looked at the other hero, then turned and silently went back to work.

Conner tilted his head and leaned against a different locker, the humid air making his clothes stick to him. He didn't like feeling gummy and sticky. He waited a minute, two, three, one hundred, or maybe a year. He couldn't tell.

But Superboy was growing impatient and irritated.

He sighed and pushed Robin away from the locker. "Wha-"

"I'll just do it!"

Conner's gruff response to Robin's unsaid inquiry signaled every alarm in Richard's exhausted mind and he shouted through both the link to Winter and aloud, "Superboy, don't!"

But Conner paid no mind and grabbed the wiring hidden in the wall, dropping it to the floor like fire as the kryptonite flared under the cables.

And an ominous glow appeared behind the new wreckage.

10…

Robin grabbed Conner's arm. "C'mon! We have to get out of here!"

Conner gasped for a second from the kryptonite's effect before another push had him running in front of the boy wonder, bolting out of the locker room.

9…

Richard hoped that he'd turned off enough of the circuits before this failsafe kicked in. If not…

8…

Conner growled at Robin. "Why did you have to run off and do something stupid?"

7…

Robin looked up at him and Superboy could see the pain in his expression, the tired, world-weary look that had slowly been building to his point. He didn't answer.

He didn't know how to.

6…

What would he say? That his life was just one train wreck after another? That whenever he got his hopes up they crashed and burned? That he was just a failure? That…

5…

…that he often wondered if he should've fallen with his parents that horrible night?

4…

Superboy saw Robin's knees buckle and he turned, grabbing him and holding the younger boy close as he picked up speed. The lobby doors were close!

3…

Robin shivered in Superboy's arms, his breathing labored and his speech slurred as he mumbled, "I'm sorry… I'm sorry…" and Conner was sure the tiny bird wasn't aware he was even speaking.

2…

The tired teenager closed his eyes, straining to push his feelings down, fighting to hold on. Just to hold onto anything…

1-

Conner and Richard were thrown from the building, the gym's raised ceiling blown clean off as fire licked down the halls. Superboy twisted, hoping to take the fall as they tumbled into the baseball field nearby, but Robin was torn from his hold by the force of the explosion. Grabbing the grass, Superboy stopped himself from rolling over the bumpy field, gasping a little from shock.

Robin wasn't as lucky.

The older protege watched, wincing as his teammate rolled once, twice, three… five times, before finally falling on his stomach, his arms scratched and his suit muddy from last night's rain. Grass stuck up in his hair, and he couldn't even muster enough energy to get his muscles to quell their mutiny and lift his weight to a sitting position.

Conner rushed to his side as the police from earlier started to swarm the field. He knelt by Robin, pulling him up a bit gentler than he would have five minutes ago. "Robin?"

His heavy head lolled to the side, and Richard coughed, his throat now dry and crackling sandpaper. "You… okay?" he rasped, struggling to sit up on his own.

Brilliant blue eyes widened at that, as Superboy opened his mouth, only to close it. "Robin, you're the one who went flying! You-" he noticed a gash on his cheek, and a few scrapes that were bleeding quite a bit. "You're hurt."

The cops reached the huddled heroes, one pulling out an ice cold water bottle. He slapped it into Superboy's waiting hand. "He's dehydrated."

Robin didn't hear, and couldn't really see Superboy twisting the cap off the bottle. Instead, he kept hearing his words from earlier… how he'd done something stupid yet again. He coughed again. "My own f-fault," he stammered weakly, catching Superboy's attention as he adjusted his hold on the younger so he could help him drink as Robin was clearly in no condition to hold the reward of a cool, condensation-covered water bottle in his shaking hands. "I jusss did something' stupid again…"

The slurred words caught the onlookers off guard. Stupid? This kid had warned them, stopped the bomb (for the most part), and helped get everyone to safety. The cops exchanged glances as Sueprboy coaxed Robin to focus on him, gently tipping the water bottle against his chapped and parched lips.

Were they missing something?

Robin wanted to bat the water bottle away. He didn't deserve it, didn't deserve the cold, refreshing liquid that healed his charbroiled throat and made his tongue feel like heaven. He didn't deserve the half-baked clarity it gave his tired mind.

But Superboy clearly disagreed, and after a few more sips, slowly hauled him to his feet. Robin stood on his own, quietly thanking Superboy, then turning to the cops. "Is everyone alright?"

"Everyone 'cept you, apparently," one of the more candid cops spoke up, crossing his arms. "You look like h-"

"I'll be fine." Robin sighed. "Well, Superboy, guess I kinda owe you a new bike…"

Superboy shook his head and watched Robin carefully as they walked away, in case he slumped over or fell from exhaustion. "It's not that bad."

Robin frowned, feeling like he was still forgetting something-

 _Richard! I saw the news! The school… are you okay?_

Winter would be that something.

 ** _Yeah, I'm…_ ** what? He most definitely was NOT alright. **_I'm standing._**

 _Richard, what aren't you telling me?_

 ** _I got a little banged up, but the job's done._**

 _I know. You did good._

He almost smiled at hearing the pride in Winter's voice. She was proud of him. But there was something else to her words… **_Winter, what's up with the… with the coms?_**

 _Um, well… Dick, I'm so sorry._

Robin climbed on the motorcycle, Superboy making sure he was stable enough to ride before leaping ahead of him, cracking craters in the sidewalk. **_What do I say? What do I do? They won't listen to me!_**

 _You'll have the right words when you need them, Dick. I'm sure of it. I'm praying for you, and I'll be upstairs… in case._

Dick smiled sadly, glancing up at the sky. "I hope You're not mad at me… though I couldn't blame You if You are…" he started to drive away from the school, avoiding the arriving emergency vehicles. "Please… I'm trusting You with everything. Please help me. Please help me and Winter both. I don't know what to say, what to do, how to explain myself at all. But God, please… help me to trust that You've got this all worked out. Winter does. Please help me to have faith like that, 'cause I really need it now."

And with that, Robin squared his shoulders, feeling a bit stronger, and raced from Metropolis behind Superboy, the sunny sky quickly turning a foreboding grey behind him.

* * *

...

* * *

 **(April 18th, 7:05 PM - Mount Justice)**

Superboy and Robin arrived at the mountain, coming in through the side entrance, the ground leveling out to a ramp as Robin rode the battered bike inside. He flicked the key to "off". Flipped out the kick stand. Swung his leg over. Took a deep breath-

and he just stared.

Wonder Woman, Superman, Flash, Green Lantern, Captain Marvel, Martian Manhunter, Green Arrow, Black Canary, Batman, the team-

the whole League was here.

He gulped and stood straighter, trying not to wince at the pain stabbing his spine or grimace at the sorry state he was in. They weren't even going to give him a chance to clean up or at least change before interrogating him… how nice and cold-hearted.

But Richard couldn't blame them, not as the scars on his wrists began to pulse angrily under his skin. He was proud of himself. He'd overcome that obstacle, and was still fighting against the voices in his head, trying to tell him - even as he stood there in silence - that he was worthless. But he'd rather say he fought with everything he had and had the scars to show it, than that he caved in and sold his soul.

Batman stepped forward, his cape flowing behind him in a threatening way. Richard wondered briefly if this was how thieves and lowlifes in Gotham felt when he swept into the room, or alley. He stared down at his ward, jaw set firmly. "You knew we were watching your every move today."

Richard just nodded at the statement, confirming the obvious.

"And yet you disobeyed orders." Disappointment colored Batman's mood a few tones darker. "You turned off your com. You shut off the link with the team." He demanded an explanation next. "Why?"

Robin looked past his mentor, around at the many faces watching his every move. He returned his gaze to his mentor, and instead of answering, he just tilted his head slightly before turning his gaze to the ground.

"You have been acting like an idiot for months now. I would expect this behavior from an immature brat," Batman berated, his tone rising with every syllable, "not from a hero."

Robin bit his lip. "So now you say it? After all this time, the charade in July for the press, the stress of trying to please you, trying to hold my life together… you actually make the claim that we-" he pointed to the team "-are heroes?"

Kid Flash's eyes widened as he lowered his googles. Robin had a point…

but he knew no one would listen.

Batman growled lowly. "Well, what do YOU claim you are?"

Robin's posture straightened further, his eyes narrowed as he said with a deadly calm, "I don't claim to be anything. Not anymore. And if being a hero means cutting corners to get a job done, then I don't want that title."

Black Canary moved towards him, obviously uneasy. "Robin, if this is trauma from something, we can help you. But you have changed. You've disobeyed direct orders. You've endangered the lives of civilians and your team. You've become reckless and impulsive." She crossed her arms, shaking her head with what his blue eyes read as half-hearted concern swirled with raging anger. "So now, after many warnings… you have two choices."

Flash and Superman looked at each other, and Green Lantern even shook his head, looking away. They were outnumbered, outvoted.

And they had no idea how to stop what was about to happen.

Martian Manhunter stepped behind Canary and Bruce, and Richard just looked up at the martian, his migraine spiking as something probed his mind. He groaned and shook his head, and the mind-reader of the group gasped, holding his head for a moment before regaining his composure.

Batman turned to his partner, his voice cold as he announced his options for the whole audience to hear, his voice echoing off the cave's walls and stairs and hallways. "You can start getting your act together, behaving like a REAL hero, and J'onn will help by searching your mind to see how we can repair any damage."

Damage…

Robin knew he was damaged. But it hurt to hear Bruce, his supposed-to-be-father, his mentor, his teacher, spit it from his lips so carelessly. And he knew they wouldn't leave him any choice. Martian Manhunter could rewire whatever he wanted inside his head.

"Or…" Bruce continued speaking, "you can give up your title and leave the team."

Superboy and Kid Flash glanced at each other; it was all they dared to do.

The League wasn't serious, right? They couldn't possibly-

"We've discussed this at length," Wonder Woman interjected, ending the silence. "You've gotten yourself to this state, Robin. We're willing to put you on probation, monitor your mental progress. We want to help you."

Robin just looked around at all the faces, all the masks, all the memories he had with each of them.

This was what betrayal felt like.

But if he left… what would become of Robin? Someone had to fill his shoes, take up the mantle to… to make Bruce proud…

Batman moved, standing so he towered over Robin completely. Everyone felt the tide shift, and something snapped. "We need an answer."

Robin blinked behind the mask and turned away from Batman, looking at the floor. He took a step away, then spun on his heel, his dry throat threatening to fail him as he looked at the entire Justice League one more time.

Whatever he chose now would create his undoing either way.

So, with what little courage burned inside his heart, and with a pounding drum hammering in his throat, Robin steadied himself and prepared to say the hardest thing he'd ever had to say.

* * *

 _-the end! sorry for any typos :( it's late, and i really wanted to get this posted because you guys had to wait so long!_

 _the next book, Fight Forever, will hopefully be out in early July, so be on the lookout!_

 _thank you all so, so, SO much for the reviews, favorites, follows, and support. i didn't expect this story to get much attention when i started it, but wow, you guys blew me away. thank you :')_

 _all of the chapter titles, and the story title, come from the song "Turn Around" by Anthem Lights, which i highly recommend you give up three minutes of your time to listen to._

 _well, it's been fun! until the sequel…_

 _God bless!_


	22. AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hi, everybody! Just wanted to let you all know: the sequel to this story, Fight Forever, is up! And now, so is a book of oneshots from this series. The oneshot series is titled "Pompeii", and it covers any loose ends, cut scenes, or extra information the main books are missing. Because really, I can't fit it all into the storyline.

Thank you all for the reviews and support! I hope you enjoy _Fight Forever_ and _Pompeii!_ God bless!


	23. ANOTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hello again! If you didn't know already, the final book of the _Pompeii_ Series is in the works! We're already three chapters in... Wow, I cannot believe how much love you guys had for this series. I never expected it to get this far.

If you haven't already, please head over and check out the other books in this series, _Fight Forever_ , _Circles_ , and _Pompeii_.

AND... I HAVE NEWS! I will be posting another YJ fanfic starting in January! And, a little warning... It will involve yet another OC. I know Winter was met with mixed feelings, so I thought I'd just give you all a heads-up. It will probably be the darkest thing I've ever written on this site, not gonna lie. And I haven't even typed it yet.

Thanks again for reading! God bless!


End file.
